


The Driver

by coldrew



Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Actress Clarke, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Driver!Lexa, F/F, LA noir, Musician Lexa (The 100), Past Character Death, Recreational Drug Use, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Shoegaze, Slow Burn, a real nostalgia for 80's music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldrew/pseuds/coldrew
Summary: Lexa is a down on her luck musician, Clarke is a rising TV Star. Fate brings them together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the two different Betas who have helped me.
> 
> "My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery -- always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?" Virginia Woolf, The Letters of Virginia Woolf: 1932-1935.

That morning Lexa had awoken from a dream, and like most dreams these days, she couldn’t remember any details, just pieces, fragments. She and Costia, young, grade-school age maybe, jumping on the trampoline in Costia’s leafy green backyard, Magnolia trees lining the sky overhead, Lexa’s stomach flying into her chest as she bounced in the air, until they were dizzy with laughter and rolling on their backs as the stretchy black fabric moved up and down, gentle earthquakes lessening with time.

Her favorite memory, a birthday party. What were they, ten or eleven? Following after Costia into her friend’s bedroom for the first time, her feeling of worship as if entering a sacrosanct chamber of the highest order. Rather than sacred texts, they looked at her photo albums, her beautiful day bed, her pink Casio, a prized possession bequeathed from an older cousin in mint condition. Being in this hallowed room had Lexa feeling like she was peering inside of Costia’s soul, witnessing the gossamer magic of her interior life. Lexa never wanted to leave.

The dream had time shifted and Lexa saw a building – a skyrise hotel, glinting windows leading up up up, and there was the sound of wind rushing, her fear pumping and her heartbeat so loud it felt as if it was rushing past her eardrums. Her blood ran cold. Lexa had never been to this building in real life, and she knew it wasn’t raining, but in the dream, rain was falling and Lexa watched helplessly as Costia fell away from her.

She reached out her hand but Costia fell farther and farther, out of her grasp…

____________

Lexa sat straight up. She was sweating, even though she was only sleeping in running shorts and a tank top. She had to think about where she was. “Focus, focus,” she told herself. She rubbed her eyes. The veranda door of the guest house she lived in was open to let the breeze through. The air moved along and throughout the one-bedroom + kitchen layout with help from the ceiling fan. The LA sunshine came in as usual, flooding the hardwood floors and white wicker furniture of the guesthouse. It felt like a sun-faded picture from an old aged photograph. Or a picture book… not her actual life.

The summers were hot, even in the hills above the canyon. Just for a moment the sweat from her tank made her shiver as the ceiling fan kicked a hint of a breeze into existence.

She could do this. She could get up. She glanced outside and saw Indra’s dog Titus, lounging by the pool, a French bulldog, tongue lolling out of his mouth in the heat.

She reminded herself of a line from the meditation podcast she had been listening to when she fell asleep last night. ‘ _Time has breadth and depth_.’ She whispered it to herself out loud, like a mantra. “Time has breadth and depth.” Her heart sank as she remembered (again). Costia. Gone. She would always be dead.

The phone rang.

At first Lexa let it chime, thinking it was an alarm, and then she remembered she had stopped setting her alarm on the iPhone. It was actually ringing.

“H-lo?’ she asked sleepily.

She reached for a half-empty water bottle on the nightstand, and swore to herself for the millionth time that she needed to kick the bottled water habit.

“Are you still in bed?”

“Good morning to you too, Anya.”

“Good, you’re still alive.”

Lexa heard the alertness in Anya’s voice, already at the office, undoubtedly in some extremely expensive designer skirt and jacket, ordering her assistant around. Anya took pity on Lexa, and had never dropped her as a client, even though she hadn’t worked in years. Her SAG extra dues were in arrears and technically she wasn’t an active member of the Union anymore.

“Get up Woods, someone wants to meet with you.” Lexa pressed her fingers to her right temple this time, dazed, and looked to where her bottle of pills was, out of reach on her cheap Ikea dresser. It was the only non-wicker piece of furniture in the guesthouse. She had brought it with her from her old apartment.

“Meet…who…? Anya, what are you talking about?” She stood up and walked over, picking the pill bottle up and examining the label.

“Nia wants you there – at Polis – in an hour. Can you do that? Pull yourself together and get over there?”

Lexa’s stomach dropped, and the plastic bottle fell down onto her bare foot. It didn’t hurt, simply bounced off and onto the hardwood floor, slowly rolling towards the table.

“Shit.” She heard Anya sigh and could sense the eye roll over the phone.

“Lexa,” Anya used her most patient voice, which wasn’t very. “You have to go. Indra’s not going to let you live rent free in that guest house forever.”

There was silence as Lexa considered her options. She didn’t have many. Any, really. Her checking account was dangerously low, under $200 dollars. She didn’t even leave the guest house anymore except for a daily run up and down the hills; Mulholland Drive to Runyan Canyon for a hike down to the base at Highland. And she took Titus for walks, walking him at least three to five times a day all around the windy streets of the Canyon, trying to justify her free place to stay. If she was feeling adventurous she drove down into the Valley for a smoothie from Whole Foods, which would soon be out of her budget. Yet the thought of facing Nia again, even after years had passed…  She swallowed.

“Alright.” She breathed. “I better get ready.” She felt as much as heard Anya exhale and could feel her impatience.

“Good. Call me when you’re done.” Click. Lexa stared at the phone in her hand.

_“We are what we are.”_ That’s what Costia had told her once.

____________

The campus of Polis Studios was baking in the early afternoon heat of the San Fernando Valley when Lexa pulled the ancient black Jeep into the driveway. She handed the security guard her driver’s license, figuring there would be a drive-on placed for her. He put a folded sheet of paper in her driver’s side dash and gave her printed map of the lot.

"Do you know where you’re going?” She nodded and the guard-gate rose. It was muscle memory, driving through that gate, past the first parking lot on her left and slowly weaving the Jeep back towards a stretch of bungalows. She remembered years earlier, when it was thrilling to be waved through studio gates, to walk past facades, and to be on or around soundstages, grips moving items, the heat of camera lights. The faint smell of cigarettes. Costia’s laughter ringing in her ears.

She parked in the Executive lot and made her way to the Lobby of the main building, where she was met by a nameless, grey-haired male security guard. She showed her Visitor’s badge and was allowed to pass through to find the elevator and make her own way to the top floor without a security escort. She stopped outside and looked at the embossed nameplate: Nia Azgeda, President, Polis Pictures.

She entered a vestibule and met the first of Nia’s assistants, a fierce looking brunette.

“Can I help you?’ she eyed Lexa, vaguely bored.

“Lexa Woods.”  You would have to be watching closely to see the slight shift in the young woman's face, as she looked again at Lexa, curious. Lexa was used to it. She knew she looked like an actress, simply a gift of genetics. People were always trying to place her, just as she was trained, years ago, to place others, whether by name, facial or other features [breast augmentation, capped teeth, the list goes on and on] in this strange hierarchy.

“She’s expecting you, one moment.” Lexa lifted her chin a quarter of an inch and took a seat a few feet in front of the desk, where a table featured trade magazines and back issues of _The New Yorker_ on display. As if anyone who came to see Nia wasn't expected. As if Nia actually read _The New Yorker_.

Lexa took out her phone and scrolled through her messages – she’d fallen out of contact with most people she knew but she saw there was a text from Indra.

“ _Congratulations, I heard you left the house_.” She quickly typed back, suppressing a lazy smile.

“ _Nia wants to see me. No clue_.” 

A few moments, then the phone chimed.

“ _Be careful_.”

A sullen looking Echo appeared from the diagonal, L shaped hall.

“She’s ready for you.” Lexa stood and followed her, barely acknowledging her.

She walked into the office and Echo shut the door behind her. Nia was behind an enormous beautiful oak desk, presumably vintage. Her back to Lexa, she sat looking out towards a sliding glass door which faced a veranda full of potted plants, with a full set of furniture among them. In the greater distance, Lexa could see the backdrop of the rise of the Canyon neighborhoods back up towards Mulholland.

Nia was laughing, talking loudly into the phone, and she swiveled in her chair, looked Lexa up and down, and nodded, waving her wordlessly in the direction to indicate she should take a seat.

Lexa thought to herself that this office must have existed since the 1930’s or 40’s, and of all people in the world Nia Azgeda was currently holding the throne -- or at least one of the thrones. More proof that life wasn't fair.

Nia put the phone back on its receiver and used the intercom to tell Echo to hold her calls.

“I see you’re still alive.” Her stare up and down made Lexa feel naked and vulnerable. “Though I can’t say you’re looking well.”

Lexa smiled, the hatred she felt, or would feel, suppressed by all the Xanax in her system. It spread like a gentle heat from her cheeks to her brain, back down her spine and down to her feet. She felt slack-jawed high, and the lack of fiery sparks inside made her feel powerful.

Nothing Nia could do could touch her now. Lexa already felt dead inside. She smiled inwardly, content with the knowledge she was just a pretty outward cover for an extremely fragile and delicate skeleton. Death was coming, one way or another.

“The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated, Nia. You of all people should know better.”

Nia rolled her eyes and took a cigarette from a pack of Parliaments sitting on the desk. She waved it towards Lexa’s black jeans, black t-shirt, and black hoodie, before she leaned back in the chair and lit it. She didn't offer one to Lexa.

“Nice outfit. I would’ve gone for some more black eyeliner if I were you. You always did have a penchant for drama.” Nia smirked. When she couldn't get a rise out of Lexa, she continued. “And everyone said you were the quiet one.”

She inhaled, glanced at the giant monitor to her left, leaning to click on a page, almost as if she forgot Lexa was there for a moment. Exhaling sharply, she glanced back toward Lexa as if she was still making a decision in her mind, her eyes lingered on the computer screen for an extra moment.

“I know you and I have had our differences in the past, so I won’t waste your time, I’ll get right to the point.” She carefully tapped her cigarette on her ashtray, and her piercing eyes focused in on Lexa’s. “I have a job for you.”

“What kind of a job.”

“Kind of an assistant…kind of a driver.”

“A driver?” Lexa liked driving, but she hated LA traffic. “Isn’t that what Teamsters are for?”

Nia looked back at the computer screen again. Lexa would normally be annoyed, but instead she concentrated on keeping the slack-jawed high feeling going, soothing herself.

“We have an actress…”

Something in Nia’s icy blue gaze, like a needle, pricked Lexa in the back of her neck, through the high, sending the smallest shiver down her spine, interrupting the warm wash of her Xanax flow. She gripped the sides of the chair and hoped Nia didn't notice.

_An actress_.

“We’ve made an investment, this TV show, we shot the first season in Canada, but we’re moving this season to LA. It seems to be taking off at this point on streaming after a very slow start on the network. We thought about canceling it…”

Lexa just watched, knowing the less you say, the more people talk. Lexa learned the hard way, when she was younger, that she talked too much.

“…anyway, they want to give it another shot. But the Showrunner, we already have him working on another project. So, we thought if we brought it down here to the lot, he can work on both. Now, the lead actress, the studio thinks _she_ might become something more. They want to keep an eye on her. I don’t even know if she has a U.S. driver’s license. Besides,” she tapped more ash from her cigarette, “the TonDC contracts don’t cover transportation for talent.”

Lexa hesitated.

“Is she Canadian?” Nia nodded.

“Last I checked their licenses work fine here. Same side of the road and everything. Anyway, aren’t you the head of the _movie_ studio? What’s your interest in this?” Nia sighed and tutted.

“Always so distrustful. Synergy, Lexa. We try to check in with our counterparts at Polis Television Productions, as you can imagine. We own a stake in the smaller network. Like I said, everyone thinks she _might_ become something. Maybe cast her in a feature during the next hiatus. But she needs some handling. Someone with discretion.”

“Look, Nia,” Lexa willed herself to say it to this enemy sitting in front of her, against every instinct inside of her. “Thank you. Um…for thinking of me…”  She coughed a little -- _at the cigarette smoke_ , she told herself -- “But I don’t think things have gotten that bad yet. I don’t think I’m up for, I mean, I’ve never been a personal assistant.”

Nia sighed, stood, and turned her back on Lexa to go look out the window. Every item of clothing was wrapped artfully around Nia, from a shoulder wrap over a long tank down to billowing pants. It looked ridiculously expensive.

“From what I hear, Lexa, things _are_ that bad for you.”

Lexa clenched her jaw, balled her hands into fists. She would not take the bait. She would not speak.

This woman had taken everything from her.

“My son, for some unknown reason, thinks highly of you. This actress, she doesn’t need an assistant. At least, for the most part, she simply needs a driver.” Lexa sat up straight, posture rigid. She felt like a massive headache was starting, and she needed to remember something important. There was a feeling of déjà vu at the back of her skull, rumbling at her. Lexa rubbed her right temple gingerly, fighting the headache that was building. She had fought so hard to forget. “Once upon a time, you were known to look after people, and you could be trusted.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” Lexa muttered, tapping her temple and feeling the sound of blood rush past her ears. She looked up to face what she knew was coming.

Nia whipped around and glowered.

“You’re only still walking around because of me. I let you have whatever meager existence you may lead. You should remember that when you speak to me.”

Lexa glowered herself for a moment and spoke, clearly now rather than mumbling, but she kept her voice low, nearly a growl, as if to show Nia that by remaining calm she still had some semblance of control.

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

Nia drifted away from the sliding door window and walked until she was leaning over the desk, all nearly six feet of her, looming over Lexa, her eyes wide and burning. “You may tell yourself I’m the enemy Lexa, and if that’s what helps you sleep at night, that’s fine.”

Lexa thought about her dwindling checking account. Just last week she thought it might be time to pack it in. To give up, to pack her few possessions and drive back to the Midwest. Or to start the car in Indra’s garage, and just let it run. Drift off into nothingness, or the great Beyond.

“What’s her name?” she asked, wondering if she’d heard of her.

Nia finally relaxed and sat down in her large chair, glancing back at the computer screen.

“I don’t think you’ll know her. The show is teenagers in the future. Set in space.” At Lexa’s near-grin, Nia’s mouth twisted into a smile and she nearly laughed. “I know that won’t narrow it down. Clarke Griffin.”

Lexa shrugged. Definitely had never heard of her. Of course, she wasn't keeping up with the trades, either.

“Nice name.”

“Echo will give you the papers we will need you to sign. Criminal background check, which I expect you to pass, because we can’t give you the job without that.” Having already turned back to the window, Nia stopped once again and craned her neck back towards Lexa, her eyes boring into her, like a vulture. “Corporate card, for gas and expenses. Roan has the car at our place.”

Lexa stood to leave and walked to the door.

“Lexa,” she turned back from the door handle. “Don’t get involved. Remember, you’re just there to make sure she gets to work on time, and never needs to order an Uber.”

Lexa felt her own puzzlement at what she might be getting involved in, unable to believe a word Nia said -- that this was just about driving someone to and from work. Intrigued, she swallowed it down so it wouldn't show on her face. Impassive. Steady. Feelings are weakness.

“Got it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in Los Angeles prior to recreational marijuana legalization by California in 2018. Medical marijuana was legal.

Lexa couldn't help but admire the mansions spread over wide plots of land as Indra’s ancient Jeep chugged up and around the curves of Mulholland. Up over the canyon and back down again, she made her way into Bel Air proper. The opulent estates grew further and further apart until there were only gated entrance driveways with large houses looming in the distance. She found the number she was looking for and stopped at a black gate with an upright metal box, letting the engine idle as she pushed the button. Moments later, the call box squawked back at her. There was a security camera pointed at her, but no live human being in sight.

“Lexa Woods, here to see Roan Azgeda.”

The wrought iron black gate opened electronically and she followed a winding drive up to the main house on the estate. It must have been a few acres, which in this part of Los Angeles was undoubtedly worth tens of millions. _Queen Nia_ , Lexa thought to herself. She was living up to the nickname. Lexa got out of the car and stood by it, looking at the front door – at the pillars, the bushes trimmed into perfect hedges, a manicured lawn that only the wealthiest could keep green in this drought. Upon closer examination, the lawn might have been expensive, extremely good looking turf. Fake grass. _How appropriate for Nia_ , she thought to herself.

After waiting for what felt like several minutes in the heat, she felt beads of sweat form on her skin. She debated if she should take her hoodie off, and was just about to when Roan emerged from the front door. She noticed that his dirty blond hair was swept back from his face today, and his blue eyes were steady as he approached her.

“Lexa, you look well.” She just nodded, so he stopped and pointed to the detached garage several feet to the right of the main house. He punched a code in and the door opened to a mini-showroom. It could’ve housed five or six vehicles, but was clearly not full to capacity at the moment, and the rotating floor came to a stop in front of what appeared to be a brand-new, black Land Rover.

Roan turned and grinned, opened the door, reached in and then turned, tossing her a key fob. On instinct, she reached out and grabbed it with her right hand. She felt the presence of another version of herself, even if it was just secretly hidden in her own mind, watching over her as if from above, helping her to keep her expression perfectly still. She could not afford to rise to anything Roan might bait her with. She needed to keep her emotions in check like a fucking Jedi. She patted one of the zippered pockets on her messenger bag slung against her side, just to feel her prescription bottle was still there. It was.

“I see you’ve still got your timing.” Roan remarked.

She looked at him curiously, and when the words left her mouth, she felt as surprised as he looked. “It’s pretty much all I’ve got.”

He looked away and they stood in silence.  A heavy feeling spread over Lexa’s chest, like a weighted blanket. It occurred to her the sensation was grief.

Or maybe it was Costia herself, from the other side, putting a protective blanket over her. And the absence of Costia in this world made it heavy.

She had a vague memory she kept low and hidden, of fighting Roan, in the back alley behind a club, trying to get to Costia -- who she knew had to be inside with Ontari -- and they had beaten each other bloody. But then his buddies were there and holding her back, and Roan was bent over panting and spitting blood, but in her ear all the same.

“It’s over Lexa, it’s over. You have to let her go.”

Lexa never accepted that. She never willingly let go of her.

She snapped back to the present time, where Roan squinted at her, his already narrow eyes becoming mere slits.

“I never told you, you know,” he looked back at the car. “I was sorry.  I am sorry, for…what happened. To her.” He paused. “And to you.”

He turned and leaned back against the SUV, running a finger through his hair, twirling his sunglasses in his fingers. “I’m not a huge fan of the way my mother operates either. She’s messed with my life enough. I just stay quiet and keep my head down. Don’t want to get cut off, you know.”

Lexa didn't know, not being a scion of the film business, but she simply nodded. She’d always known that Roan was different from his mother; that it wasn't his fault who he was born to.

“We are what we are.” She said simply.

That seemed to bring him out of his thoughtful reverie and he peered down at her again. “So you were supposed to stop at the Management Company and sign all of the paperwork. Done?” She nodded and he walked around the front of the engine and to the passenger side door. “Good. Now this car is leased out to her S-Corp, so be extra careful this first week because we don’t have the document yet that names you as the licensed operator of the vehicle.” He opened the passenger side door and climbed in, and gestured for her to get in the driver’s side, which she did. The SUV had that patented brand new car smell, mixed with leather.

“You will not be paid by her S-Corp. Mother says you’re to be paid by the Production company of the show she’s on. I think your title is, technically, ‘Production Assistant.’” At Lexa’s eye roll he grinned and nodded. “I know, I know. But trust me, you’re not being paid like a production assistant.” He reached around to the back seat and picked up what appeared to be a small black binder.

“This is prepped with all the details you need to know. Her contact list – agent, management company, legal representation. A brief bio and background on the show. The cast and crew list, the schedule – you’ve been added so you get the call sheets. This still your current email address?” She glanced over and nodded at him. “They’re going to start shooting in two weeks.” Lexa processed this new information.

“Why am I starting on Monday then? Do they have rehearsal?” He shook his head and didn’t meet her eyes.

“No, she may be called in for some hair and makeup tests, and the showrunner will want to meet with her at some point. I don’t know if my mother told you…” he glanced at her, “she just had emergency surgery.” Lexa’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Nothing serious, I think it was her appendix. Her mother is here with her right now. But she has to leave.”

Lexa felt bitterness bubble within her.

“Nia said I wouldn’t be a personal assistant…just driving.” Roan’s eyes filled with something. She couldn’t tell what, but she knew he was holding out on her.

“I don’t know the full story. You’re definitely being paid by the Production and not her. But she’s still recovering and I think she needs some looking after.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and sighed. Who was she kidding. She needed the money. She desperately needed a job.

“Ok.” He opened the binder and pulled out a loose-leaf sheet of paper. “Here’s the address of the house her people have rented.” He held out his hand. “Give me your keys.” Lexa raised her eyebrows at him.

“I’ll have your car dropped off at Indra’s later, ok? Think of this as the company car. But lucky for you, you don’t have to keep a mileage log or anything. Nobody will be checking up on you.” Once again, Lexa checked the bitterness she felt in her stomach, acid rising in her throat.

“Lucky me.”

____________

Before she left the Azgeda house, Roan had given her some basic instructions on the car, using the navigation system, the stereo, the sunroof. This was, apparently, the loaded version. Lexa started the engine and programmed it into the GPS with Roan’s help. “Anya will contact you about meeting her.”

_So, this actress was a client of Anya’s_ , Lexa thought to herself. She wondered why Anya hadn’t mentioned this on the phone.

Almost immediately she had received a text from Anya.

“ _Meet me at her house in an hour. Don’t wear a hoodie!”_

Lexa grimaced. She had just enough time to stop at Indra’s and change into a button down white shirt and light grey cardigan, dark denim jeans instead of black. She refused to change out of her Converse sneakers though. She was just. A fucking. Driver.

It took her less time to get from the Studio City side of the canyon to the Hollywood Hills then she thought. The place looked nice, if small. Tucked away in a steep cul-de-sac with angular houses lining both sides of the street, each with various shade trees clinging to life out front. Most were either converted to succulents or the lawns and gardens were in progress. There was already a black Mercedes in the driveway of the address she was given, and as soon as Lexa parked out front she saw Anya approach in her trademark black BMW coupe.

“Lexa, now there’s the softer side I remember,” Anya teased, smirking at her.

“You’re hilarious, Anya,” Lexa tucked the binder into her messenger bag as Anya grabbed a briefcase out of her car. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me she’s your client.”

Anya started walking up the slightly steep driveway as she spoke.

“She’s actually not. She’s one of these Canadian pipeline TV package deals that Gustus specializes in.” Lexa knew him at first name only, a co-founder and principal stakeholder in Anya’s firm.  Anya had started out as an apprentice over a decade ago, one of his many protégés. “There’s an entire TV packaging department. But he came to me himself to get me involved in this. Nia recommended you personally for this job. She told him to go through me. That we had a history together.”

“Costia was your client, not me.” Anya rolled her eyes at her.  

“Did I not keep you a SAG extra card holding, fully insured -- if underemployed -- actor for like five years?” Anya was scowling, but Lexa felt the warmth under the words. Anya had always liked Lexa, and more importantly, Anya had been good to Costia.

Lexa felt the slightly out-of-body sensation hit her again, the same one that she’d felt earlier. Like there was another version of herself watching this, telling her to remain calm.

“Yeah you did.” She said softly.

Anya stopped as they were just to the front door, and rang the bell.

“Look Lexa, anyone who knows you knows that you’re nothing if not loyal. And you’ll keep your mouth shut. That’s all they need to know.”

Lexa was still absorbing this compliment of sorts when the door opened. An older, dark-haired man in an expensive suit appeared and gestured them inside.

“Good to see you again Anya.” They both stepped inside and Anya shook his hand. Anya turned to Lexa, “Marcus Kane, this is Lexa Woods.” He smiled and turned to shake Lexa’s hand.

“Lexa, I’m Ms. Griffin’s personal lawyer. A friend of the family really. Clarke’s mother is in the master bedroom with her right now.” He turned and indicated a hallway which led to the left side of the one-story house. Wherever it led was out of their view. Then he turned and motioned for them to follow him from the small entrance-way towards the kitchen at the rear of the house. Lexa thought it was a split-level built into the side of the canyon, but she couldn’t be sure without walking outside. “There’s one more document I need you to sign.”

The kitchen was one of those sleek, painfully modern interior design jobs with a stainless-steel sink, oven and refrigerator centered around a mobile kitchen island. Lexa noticed a framed Magritte painting sitting on the floor propped next to an empty wine rack. To the right was a long, bench-like table, all looking out on yet another view of the side of the Canyon, which ended once again at the crest of Mulholland Drive.

At that point -- mid-afternoon on Friday -- headlights were becoming more noticeable even though sunset wouldn't begin for another few hours, as cars made their way up and down Laurel, Benedict, and Coldwater Canyons. Marcus set the briefcase on the table and pulled out another seeming sheaf of documents.

“The NDA.”  Lexa glanced at Anya. Anya nodded curtly.

“It’s fine, I had all of the paperwork looked over for you. It’s standard.” Lexa figured she wasn’t in a police station, but she still read the first few paragraphs quickly. It did appear to be a standard non-disclosure agreement. The first thing anyone said about most NDA’s was that they don’t hold up in court. Lexa had no plans to violate it anyway.

“Did Anya brief you on the medical situation?” Marcus asked. Lexa looked again at Anya before answering, unsure what she was supposed to say. Anya spoke.

“I explained that Clarke had to have her appendix removed urgently last week,” Anya eyed Lexa when she said this. Lexa nodded at her and Marcus in return.

“Do you have any issues with the medical marijuana card,” he asked, quite seriously. If Lexa had not practiced keeping her face neutral these past few years, her eyebrow would have raised at that one. She stifled the laugh she felt rising in her throat.

“Uh, no. Not at all.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

He regarded her very gravely, and she felt that out-of-body feeling take hold so hard she thought she might float away on the very spot.

“I’m sure it’s not unusual in your line of business, to get people what they need. But we have to do everything by the book. And we don’t want the card in her name.” Lexa nodded, quite seriously, in return.  Just then, a woman approached them and Lexa was relieved to look away. “Dr. Abby Griffin,” Marcus announced as she reached the table, was introduced, and shook hands with Anya and then Lexa.

“So formal Marcus. I’m Abby.” Dr. Griffin smiled at them but there was definitely a look of worry on her face. “I’m sure Marcus explained, but I have to fly back to Vancouver tomorrow. I wish I could stay longer,” she looked directly at Lexa, “I understand I leave Clarke in good hands?”

Lexa just nodded, somewhat stunned. What in the world did these people think were her qualifications, and what kind of help did this actress need? She could pick up a medical marijuana prescription as well as the next person, but she was by no means a nurse.

Before she could speak, Anya cut in—

“Dr. Griffin-- Abby,” at the immediate protest from the woman. “I’ve known Lexa for almost ten years, she’s a former client of mine. She understands this business. She’s extremely trustworthy.” Marcus echoed her.

“Nia Azgeda herself, has recommended her to us.”

Abby smiled and nodded, still staring at Lexa, as if trying to see into her skull. 

“She’ll always be my little girl,” She stated plainly, as all three of them nodded sympathetically.

Marcus turned to Lexa. “I know you were supposed to start on Monday, but Abby has to leave tomorrow. Can you be here at noon tomorrow and we’ll introduce you to her?”

Lexa nodded. Abby spoke again.

“We’d do it now, but she’s resting.”

Lexa nodded wordlessly, knowing she had nowhere else to be tomorrow at noon. Still....another knock at the door to interrupt her thoughts. Marcus turned to walk towards it.

“That’s the other member of the team now, security.” Lexa wondered how much security was required for actresses these days, though she figured even as audiences might get smaller on any given show, the fan access through social media did seem far more intense than it used to be.

“Lincoln, this is Lexa.” His hair was close-cropped and she saw the muscles bulging against his shirtsleeves. He certainly looked the part. All he was missing was the dark suit, ear piece and gun. She wondered if he had a concealed carry permit.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled and gripped her hand warmly. “I understand we will be working together.” She gave a brief smile and nodded back at him.

“Yes.” His eyes told her that he was more gentle than the suit-stretching muscles indicated.

“Me or my guys are always around if you need us. Even if you don’t see us, we’re there.”

_Ok, that’s just slightly creepy_ , Lexa thought. He went on, “It’s… more personal with Clarke too, she’s really good friends with my girlfriend.”

Lexa nodded at him, as Marcus went on to present Lexa and Lincoln each with more briefing items, showed them emergency number information helpfully stashed in the cupboard in addition to the binders each of them had been given, complete with color coded sections.

Abby turned her eyes back on Lexa.

“Tomorrow, then.”

____________

As soon as they were down the driveway and out of earshot, Lexa turned to Anya at her car.

“Anya, what is this. Is she in a cult?” Anya rolled her eyes. “Some secret plastic surgery?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you too much. She just had an emergency appendectomy, ok? I mean I know she’s an adult but I don’t think she’s ever shot in LA for more than a bit part, her Mom’s worried, you know how parents can be.” Lexa exchanged a look with her at that comment.

“Ok, maybe not parents like ours. But other people’s parents.”

“Do they expect me to take care of her? I’ve never taken care of anyone who’s sick, and besides…” The words fell short and Anya paused, setting her briefcase in the backseat of her car, while simultaneously reaching for a small purse.

“Look, Lexa, she’s got two weeks before shooting starts and she can’t exactly be up and around yet. She probably isn’t supposed to get out of bed this week so you may have to get her meals, groceries, whatever she needs. I think she’s going to have one follow up doctor’s appointment.”

“She’s from Vancouver? That’s where she’s been acting all this time?”

“Yeah,” a vague memory hit Lexa, a run to the country market down Laurel Canyon, a supermarket tabloid. “So it's one of those TonDC shows right?” Anya nodded.

"Isn’t she dating Finn Collins or something?” Anya shot her a look.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been reading the tabloids during your self-imposed exile? I guess Indra gives you free Wi-Fi too?”

Lexa’s mouth barely moved. “I just thought I saw her picture.” Anya looked down into her purse.

“Yeah you did. Gustus was pissed. I guess Collins goes all out on these fancy vacations and rents the whole island off for privacy but,” she rolled her eyes and smirked in quick succession, “the paparazzi use telephoto lenses and they rent boats to get close. At least she was wearing a bikini.” Anya cracked a smile and glanced up and looked back at the house.

“Look Lexa, I know you never wanted to be anyone’s babysitter, but I wouldn’t have agreed to bring you into this if she had a bad reputation. Everyone says she’s a good kid.”

“No terrible drug-- ” Anya’s mouth snapped shut as Lexa’s face went slack. “Er…, any major problems that I’m aware of.” Anya studied Lexa’s closed face for a moment, and then Lexa finally spoke, squinting against the glare.

“Medical marijuana doesn’t count then?” The corners of her mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. Anya relaxed.

“Thought I lost you there for a moment.”

Lexa just shook her head and looked down at the pavement for a moment.

“How old is she?”

“27.” Lexa nodded.

“Anything else I should know?” Anya shrugged.

“I really don’t think so, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. I’ve got your back.”

If Lexa had been capable of it, if she could've found a way to swim up out of herself, out of the months and years of Xanax in her brain, systematically slowing the neurons down as they fired, she would've told Anya that she couldn't do it. She wasn't qualified to take care of anyone else. She could barely get out of bed in the morning. Personal assistants get fired all the time, super easily, and even based on someone’s mood. The underlying panic must have shown on her face.

“Hey, Lexa, you can do this. You, kind of _need_ to do this.”

Lexa nodded, slowly. “I may not take this, after I meet her.” Anya tapped her on the shoulder lightly and unlocked her car.

“I get it, I do.” She opened her car do. “Meet her first though.” Anya put her expensive mirrored sunglasses on and the dilated green of Lexa’s own irises stared back at her in the reflection. “You need the money.”


	3. Chapter 3

She had woken up at 9am to a text from an unknown number.

“ _Hi Lexa, it’s Abby Griffin. I was wondering if you could be here at 11am so I can introduce you to Clarke before I leave_.”

And it had begun. Good thing Lexa didn’t have much of a life of her own. She had a feeling this was going to be a 24-hour-on-call kind of thing. She added Abby’s information to her contacts and quickly responded she would meet her there.

She took a pill as she made coffee and went outside to scratch behind Titus’ ears. The caffeine would bring her up at the same time the Xanax was bringing her down and mellowing her out. The dry heat was already building and the dog rolled on his side as she scratched his belly, his tongue rolled out of his mouth, his tale wagged slowly. Indra had a full-time housekeeper who was also Titus' main caretaker, but Lexa felt she would miss him all the same. The carefree days she had spent with the dog, pretending she didn’t really exist. It was foolish, to think that she could go on forever in that state of nothingness. She didn’t like to admit any weakness, but her stomach bubbled nervously at the thought of something new. To go back out into the greater world. Lexa had been in hiding for years…back inside the guest house, she gazed over the room at her lack of possessions. She picked up her other bottle of Xanax, her back-up, and threw it into her shoulder bag. She raised herself in the mirror and threw her head back, imperial.

"You can do this Lexa,” she told herself.

In an instant, a flashback came to her. She was in the beat-up, dirty dressing room of The Troubadour in West Hollywood, black walls covered in grime, slashed with writing and etched with hundreds of names over the years. Costia carefully painted the charcoal black around her eyes and placed the red sash on her shoulder just so.  “ _You can do this_ , _Lexa, remember, you’re the Commander_.” In the dressing room, her eyes closed, she felt the damp heat of Costia’s breath on her: a mix of cigarettes, gin and tonic, spearmint chewing gum, and Costia’s perfume, the scent of which had driven Lexa crazy as much as it had felt like home. Lexa’s eyes flew open, and she stared back at Costia as the most wild energy rose up from deep within her. Like she could battle armies. As if she could rule the world. “ _Fuckin’ right I can_.”

She shook her head, coming back to the present. Now she didn’t have a choice.

As she picked her outfit, knowing that Dr. Griffin would be there again, she paired a faded black t-shirt, dark denim jeans and another light grey thin cardigan, despite the heat.

She was ten minutes early with no traffic on the way. She went ahead and rang the doorbell. _Moms like punctuality_ , she figured.

“Hi Lexa, thank you for coming over early.” Abby was very put together in a stylish but still professional looking pantsuit and a black rollaway carry-on parked in the vestibule to the side.

“Marcus is coming for me in about thirty minutes.” Lexa nodded as Abby headed down the hall to the left, the part of the house Lexa had yet to see. There was a stylized head shot lodged in Lexa’s head, as she had used her free time and free broadband to search Clarke last night. Now she found herself curious -- and somewhat anxious -- to meet her in person.

She had tried to watch the pilot of the show on streaming, and had fallen asleep after the first thirty-five minutes. It wasn’t Clarke’s fault, it just clearly wasn’t very good, or Lexa’s kind of show. Extremely attractive twenty-somethings running around spaceships, pretending to be teenagers. Sometimes TV shows really improved after a rough pilot episode if the network tinkered with it, but Lexa wasn’t optimistic.

She followed Abby into the room, dark save for where the Venetian blinds let some ribbons of light stream in -- and there was Clarke, propped up against the pillows, very blond, but very pale. Lexa was drawn immediately to the blue eyes, set off even more by the yellow-white blond hair against ghostly skin. Lexa guessed Clarke had probably gotten her hair colored right before her appendix decided to burst. Lexa noticed next that there were darkened circles under the blue eyes, as if she were sleep deprived. As Abby addressed Clarke, introducing Lexa, she felt herself staring, wide-eyed. The blue eyes peering back at her were watery, and Lexa felt certain that Clarke was on some heavy dosage of post-surgery pain medication.

When she had watched the show the night before, Lexa had felt annoyed on behalf of her future employer. Clarke's character was dressed in this silly, futuristic leather jacket, with a tight, scooped-neck shirt underneath to push up her ample cleavage for as much exposure as possible. This was the outfit they had her literally run around in, stun-gun in hand -- or “space-gun” Lexa supposed -- she hadn’t watched long enough to see if it fired bullets. Lexa dismissed Clarke as kind of cheap looking, if she was being honest, and wondered if she would find a vacuous, bubble-headed blond the next day. The sort of LA actress she couldn’t stand. Instead, meeting her for the first time in such a vulnerable state made all of Lexa’s assumptions from the night before fall away.

Stripped of make-up, laid up, and clearly in pain, she seemed so, so real. Beautiful, absolutely, but _human_. Fragile, even. Lexa could barely look at her. She was afraid to make eye contact.

But she swallowed and made sure her face was expressionless, as Abby fluffed the pillows and fussed over Clarke, making sure she had water, giving Lexa instructions.

_Don’t leave me here with her_ reverberated through Lexa’s brain, a silent plea as she listened to Abby. Lexa didn’t know what to do. Thankfully all the medication in her system seemed to prevent her rapid heartbeat and the sensation of blood rushing past her eardrums from advancing into a full-fledged panic attack.

Abby explained to Lexa that a large source of Clarke’s discomfort was that in order to get the appendix out without leaving a scar, the doctors had literally blown air up into Clarke’s body, and that same air was now working its way back out through her system. Yikes.

Lexa decided that now was not the time to tell Clarke’s mother that medical details like this made her queasy. Listening to details about the surgery was not helping her stomach.

“Have you ever had your appendix out?” Abby asked her as Clarke looked on, eyes sleepy.

She shook her head.

“My best friend did, when we were in the 4th grade.” She looked at Clarke and then quickly back to Abby. “She was in the hospital for a week. Left with a scar.” As if to explain. “It was the early 90’s.” Abby nodded warmly.

“Oh I remember those days.” She glanced at Clarke. “Nowadays, even in Canada, you’re lucky if they keep you overnight for observation.” Abby rubbed Clarke’s arm gently. Clarke tried to smile at her mother but it quickly turned into a grimace. Abby indicated an orange prescription bottle at the bedside.

“Her Doctor prescribed Vicodin so that’s here and I’ve warned Clarke to take it as soon as she feels the pain coming on -- not to wait until it’s full-blown. It can make her sick though, especially if she doesn’t eat. I had a friend prescribe her Percocet as well, just in case.” She turned slowly. “Lexa, I’m counting on you to keep Clarke honest, she really shouldn’t overdo it with these pain meds.”

Lexa thought to herself that Clarke was the luckiest person in the world; her own mother was getting her Percocet on top of the attending Doctor’s prescriptions. She wondered how she might sneak a few for herself as she nodded dutifully at Abby.

The doorbell rang.

“That’s Marcus. Sweetie I’ve got to go.” She leaned over and kissed Clarke on her cheek. “I’ll call you to check in as soon as I land. Lexa,” she turned and gripped her forearm. “Take care of my girl.”

Lexa nodded, somewhat seriously. She felt how important this was to the other woman, that she was being entrusted with something, or rather someone, precious and rare. She gripped Abby’s forearm in return.

“I will, Dr. Griffin.”

“Please, call me Abby.”

She turned to leave, and Lexa went to walk out with her.

“No, please stay, I’ll see myself out.”

And then Abby was gone, she heard Marcus speak with her, the door closed, and Lexa was alone. Alone with _her_.

She turned to the wide, blue eyes watching her. Was it… _warily_?

“Hey.” Lexa finally spoke, to break what felt like an awkward silence. “I’m so sorry, about,” she gestured towards Clarke’s abdomen, “…this.”

Then Lexa looked around her, her eyes scanned the room, and saw a chair Abby must have pulled up next to the bed and the nightstand. She brought it over and sat so their eyes could be at a level. Clarke was even a bit higher up than her, now that she was sitting; propped in the bed against multiple fluffy pillows.

Lexa dared a look at Clarke and saw a spot just above her left eyebrow, somewhere between a freckle and mole over her left upper lip, and, in the natural light, a few other freckles on the other lip, the apple of her left cheek, the bridge of her nose.

Clarke swallowed, and winced as she spoke.

“Sorry that you’re meeting me this way. I didn’t think they’d hire a babysitter.” There was that word again, Lexa thought to herself. Clarke’s voice was tired and a little hoarse, and it probably came out harsher than she had intended, because when Lexa looked down, embarrassed, Clarke almost immediately spoke again.

“I mean, I…my Mom has a point, I can barely move around by myself.” She looked around the room, somewhat helplessly. “I can’t believe we start shooting in two weeks.” She let out a low groan and glanced at what appeared to be a few scripts next to her on the white down comforter. Unlike Indra’s guest house, this house had air conditioning. In fact, Lexa almost felt chilly. Clarke closed her eyes and Lexa thought for a moment that she was falling asleep, when she opened her eyes and looked directly at Lexa.

“So your name’s Lexa?” The corners of her mouth turned up, as if to smile.

“That’s me. And you’re Clarke.” Clarke nodded, smiling, a bit glassy-eyed.

“Is Lexa short for anything?” Lexa was quiet by nature, but the glassy blue eyes were hypnotic. She felt her brain slowly stop working.

“No…” she shook her head. “Well, my parents named me Alexandria. But I had it changed, a long time ago. Now it’s just Lexa. Even legally.”

Clarke’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she genuinely smiled.

“So you did not like your name…that’s clear.”

Lexa blushed, she hadn’t thought about it in years. Her odd declaration of independence in a way, from her name, from her past, from people searching her on the internet.

“I have the binder full of information…” she indicated the binder Abby had left on the credenza. “Somehow I’m not really sure what the instructions are, besides the basics…”

Clarke eyed her warily and repeated her words slowly.

“The basics...”

Flustered, Lexa continued.

“They have told me the main thing is to drive you to work or anyplace else you need to go. I know that there is a housekeeping service and your mother hired a private Nurse to come in and check on you.” Lexa cleared her throat, and spoke softly. “Just let me know what you need. I’ve never really done this before.” _Way to project confidence, Lexa_.

Clarke’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t?” Lexa immediately berated herself, she had said the wrong thing. She felt her heart re-start, like the key in ignition, but re-start calmly, with the benefit of all the meds in her own system.

She shook her head and looked down, but did not allow expression. Clarke continued, as a way of explaining.

“Just the way my mom said, Marcus said…” Clarke paused, and Lexa sensed her discomfort, “…Nia Azgeda herself, recommended you.”

Lexa nodded and glanced up, forcing herself to meet Clarke’s eyes.

“Yeah, she did. I’ve known her for years.”

Clarke looked at her questioningly, but didn’t press further.  She was about to ask another question when she suddenly gripped her own bicep and shoulder.

“Oh shit. This hurts.” She closed her eyes and grimaced. “I love my Mom but if I had to listen to her tell one more person they hoovered carbon dioxide into me to blow up my abdomen.” She rolled her eyes and continued, “I guess the Doctor in her can’t help herself with explaining every little detail. Sometimes I would just rather not know.” She closed her eyes and leaned back into the pillows, then opened them and blinked back at Lexa. “Or not announce it to the whole world.”

Lexa smiled and nodded in sympathy. Lexa looked down, she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. She had never had particular talent for comforting others. She felt stiff, self-conscious, and ridiculous.

Clarke eyed her for a moment and her eyelids began to close.

“Just Lexa?”

“Yes Clarke?”

Clarke smiled, her eyes closed at this point.

“I like the way it sounds when you say my name…I was going to tell you…I think I’m falling asleep.”

And with that she was silent.

Lexa was afraid to move her from her propped position against the pillows and instead sat there watching her from the chair, in the chilly semi-darkness of the room, until her own eyelids began to droop and she laid her head against the side of the chair and curled her knees up into her chest the best she could.

____________

The next time Lexa opened her eyes, her neck was protesting against the back of the chair – and pain shot through it. “Shit.”

Clarke looked at her from the bed, still propped up on the pillows, and leafing through the script Lexa had noticed earlier.

“I felt really bad at how uncomfortable you looked. That chair is not meant for sleeping.”

Lexa’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry for falling asleep. How long has it been?”

Clarke glanced at her phone.

“Mom left two hours ago. I just woke up myself.” Clarke didn’t even look at her, just waved a hand.

“Don’t worry, I would have thrown something at you to wake you up if I needed you.”

She looked up after a moment when Lexa didn’t respond. In fact, the expression on Lexa’s face never changed.

“That was a joke, Lexa.” Clarke stared at Lexa curiously, her mouth turned up at one corner, amused.

Lexa nodded, and tried desperately to feel more awake. Instead, she felt like she was living in a surreal, alternate reality.

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, would you like some?”

“No thanks. I’m taking this Vicodin because the pain is killer, but it really does make me sick to my stomach. And groggy.” Lexa nodded.

“Oh that reminds me, I got the card. Marcus wanted to make sure you knew.”

Clarke rolled her eyes but looked relieved at the same time.

“It’s ridiculous he freaks out about me having my own card…but thank you SO much…”

Lexa gave her what she hoped was a sympathetic look.

“Do you want me to go pick some up for you right now?” Clarke shook her head.

“No, tomorrow will be fine. I just took some medication right before my Mom left. She forced me to eat some soup right before that.” She started to yawn in her scoop neck tank top and then as her arms moved, she brought them back in with a sharp intake of breath and let out a yelp of pain. “Ow, shit, that hurt.”

Lexa, who had been using all her energy trying not to stare at Clarke’s breasts throughout the yawn, felt Clarke’s eye meet hers with an expression of helplessness -- which Lexa found incredibly endearing. “Can you hand me that controller?”

There was a controller lying at the foot of the bed which Clarke couldn’t reach so Lexa leaned over her legs and handed it over to her.

Their hands touched briefly and Clarke’s felt incredibly cold to Lexa’s warm hand. Clarke reached out and brushed Lexa’s hair back.

“Oooh, speaking of, you have a tattoo on your neck. That must have hurt.” There was a black ink that almost looked bluish as it had faded with time. Lexa’s head and neck were tingling, just from Clarke touching her hair. She sat beside her on the bed and quickly pulled it back into a makeshift braid so Clarke could see easily where it was at the base of her neck, on her spine.

“Is that the infinity symbol?”

“Pretty much” Lexa’s face burned crimson but she tried to keep her expression neutral. “I was in a band. We each got those symbols on our necks.”

Clarke smiled sleepily.

“It’s so tiny… a band, really? What kind of band? That sounds exciting.” Lexa deflected, and pointed out an acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the room, leaning besides a chaise lounge.

“I noticed the guitar when I came in. Do you play?” Clarke smiled and nodded in response, before grimacing again.

“I do…in my free time. I love it, it really relaxes me.”

Lexa nodded.

“I learned to play on an acoustic. I started lessons pretty young after I satisfied my mother I could play the piano decently. The first time I plugged an electric guitar into an amp,” she thought back to college, to Costia’s dorm room, “That was life changing.” 

Clarke nodded at her, glassy-eyed, as if spell-bound by her voice.

“I want to hear more about this band.”

Lexa stared and nodded, but she didn’t say anymore, so after a few moments Clarke stopped staring at Lexa and looked back to the controller in her hand. She aimed at the flat screen on the wall.

“I guess I’ll find something to watch then,” she looked sheepishly at Lexa, “…I’ve only been here a couple weeks and then the surgery so…I’m still figuring a lot out.”

It took every ounce of Lexa’s brain power, and even then she had to consult the binder, which thankfully did have instructions for the SmartTV. She was able to help Clarke navigate through to the various options for streaming or ordering. She slid off the bed and went back around to the chair she had set up by Clarke and the nightstand.

When Clarke nodded off twenty minutes into an episode of _Parks and Recreation_ , Lexa looked back at her and stared, openly.

Lexa already found herself with a strange sensation in her chest. Clarke looked so beautiful sleeping, and deep within a small voice instructed her that she needed to do everything she could to protect her, and keep her safe.

_What the fuck is wrong with you_ , she thought to herself? _Are you high_? [She kind of was].

It crawled into the back of her head slowly, like the warm, fuzzy distorted guitars of her favorite songs, that Clarke reminded her of someone she had once known.

Clarke reminded her of Costia.

Lexa shook her head.

They were both blond, they were both blue-eyed, but that was the extent of it.

_“Lexa, don’t try to see what isn’t there_ ,” she told herself.

She stood up and walked out of the room.

She quietly let herself out of the house and set the alarm as she had been instructed. Backing out of the driveway, she noticed the unmarked car across the street and gave a wave to the serious looking man inside, thinking it was Lincoln’s security team.

It wasn’t until she was home and lying in her own bed it started to bother her. What if some strange man was just parked across the street from Clarke? What if she had given a nonchalant wave to a stalker?

She texted Lincoln.

_“Hey it’s Lexa. Just want to make sure that was your guy in a black car across the street when I left tonight?”_

Her phone chimed within a minute.

_“Yes. One of mine. Way to be alert.”_

She finally relaxed, and as she as drifted off, she wondered again _what_ _exactly_ she was being alert for.

Lexa tossed and turned, struggling to fall asleep that night. When she finally did she had a nightmare on a loop.

She dreamt of a high-rise hotel in a large city she could not recognize, but she was sure she had been there when she was younger. The rain was coming down in sheets against the windows, and she looked up to see Costia falling, falling away from her, her hand just out of her reach.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome Raven Reyes.

When Lexa arrived at Clarke’s the next morning there was another car already parked in the driveway, a steel grey Mercedes.

She felt apprehensive as she typed the code into the keypad just to the right of the doorway. It beeped at her, allowing her to use another, more traditional key. She didn’t announce herself, not knowing what was going on, but she heard laughing as she came through the door. Her stomach relaxed a little.

“Hello? You there, Clarke?”

“--Unacceptable I tell you.”

It was a new voice she hadn’t heard before. A sharp-eyed brunette appeared in the hall. She approached Lexa and held out her hand.

“You must be Lexa?” She nodded her head as they shook hands. “I’m Raven, Clarke’s --”

She was cut off by a gravelly voice calling from the other room, and Lexa followed Raven into the bedroom.

“Raven Reyes, do not embarrass me.” Raven nearly flung herself onto the bed and kissed Clarke on the forehead.

“Oh Griff, why the pout,” she started to hug Clarke who winced and grimaced.

“Raven! You can’t hug me like that right now, I just had surgery.” Raven rolled her eyes at Lexa. Clarke spoke from the side. “Seriously Raven, I’m not kidding. I’m in pain.”

“Did you bring her prescription?” Lexa pulled out the medical marijuana package from her shoulder bag. Raven snatched it out of her hand and took it to examine.

“I hope they’re paying you enough to deal with _this_.” Raven nodded to indicate Clarke, who still sat with an unhappy expression on her face. “…I’ll set up Clarke’s one-hitter for her. When does the nurse get here?”

Lexa took the binder she had been carrying and flipped through.

“Looks like… tomorrow morning.” Abby had left a dossier on the private nurse who would come check in on Clarke as she recovered.

“Ok, because Griff here won’t say anything to you, but she’s dying to shower.”

“Raven.” Clarke sat forward and covered her eyes with her hands. Lexa was sure her face was bright red. She almost stuttered when she spoke next.

“A-anything you need.  Can you walk?” Raven eyed Lexa, a twinkle in her eye.

“Don’t worry Commander, I’m her best friend. I’ve got this.” Lexa willed her face to remain impassive, and she didn’t move. She was perfectly still. _Commander_. She noticed the open laptop next to Clarke on the bed.

Clarke peered out at Lexa from behind her hands, a sheepish look on her face.

Her voice was low, still hoarse, and incredibly sexy. It sent shivers up Lexa’s spine.

“You mentioned you were in a band last night, I was bored, and I got curious. I was googling…”

Raven picked up the laptop and leaned back on propped pillows beside Clarke as she scrolled through some images.

“Lexa, I know we just met, but I feel like I can tell you this,” she looked up at Lexa and then back at the screen, “You looked eff-ing _hawt_ in your Commander get-up.  What is that makeup across your eyes? Is that supposed to be war paint?”

Lexa felt like she was having an out of body experience. She didn’t even know how to process what was happening. She should have known that everything from the band was, of course, still on-line, and anyone with access to the internet and a search engine could find it.

She made a mental note to speak with Indra. Maybe there was a way to get it scrubbed off the internet? Or enough that only people who had real skill could find it?

She swallowed.

“Yes, war paint. It was kind of an act. I had to rally myself to get on-stage. Like a character.”

Clarke smiled at her when she spoke.

“Lexa Kom Trikru.” Lexa simply nodded. What could she say? Part of her wished she could disappear. And yet…there was a smile in Clarke’s voice, a turn in her eyes when she looked at Lexa, a lilt to her low rasp, like she wasn’t making fun of it. Like she found it charming.

“Life in an indie band.” Lexa mused, in her mind going back to a mini reverie of the good times. “Yeah, the lines around my eyes started out pretty neat like in your picture there --,” she glanced over at Raven’s screen, “But when I would sweat on-stage the black would kind of streak down – which at the time – I liked the effect.”

Raven went on, “that is some Ziggy Stardust shit right there.” She looked at Clarke. “I’m not sure Clarke here knows who David Bowie is.”

Clarke reached out and playfully slapped Raven’s shoulder.

“Shut it Raven. Of course, I do. Give me some credit.”

“Whoa,” Raven looked up from the computer. “Indra Gona was your manager? She runs the 12 Clans label now. Music Label empire. She’s like a big deal.”

Lexa nodded.

“I was very lucky. We met Indra when we moved out here, she produced our first album when she was just trying to start her own label. Back then she was producing and engineering for indie bands. Even though my band didn’t really go anywhere…she’s still a really close friend now. She’s always been there for me.” She didn’t mention that she was living in Indra’s guest house and driving Indra’s old car.  

“Ooooh, who is this now? _Costia_?” Raven let out a whistle. “Look at those intense eyes…she’s gorgeous” she looked over at Clarke.

“She kind of looks like you Clarke – but taller.” Clarke attempted to move forward so she could see what Raven had on-screen.  “Then again, who isn’t?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Raven and gripped a pillow, which she brought to her side.

“Raven Reyes, if I had the strength I would throw this pillow at you,” she looked pleadingly at Lexa.

“Lexa, Raven is a dear friend, but I have to warn you she’s a total pain in the ass.” Lexa hoped neither of them noticed that she hadn’t dared to move a single muscle, hadn’t blinked, since Raven had mentioned Costia. Maybe if she didn’t move, they wouldn’t say her name again.

“I love you too Clarke…” Raven hopped up and started to pull the covers back where Clarke sat.

“Let’s get you showered and then we can quiz Lexa about the Trikru.”

Lexa walked around and helped Raven guide Clarke gently out of the bed and onto her feet.

Clarke wore a fluffy white robe over an old t-shirt and she could see flannel pajama pants below.

“I’ve got this Lexa,” Raven had hooked her arm around Clarke’s shoulder protectively. “Take Clarke’s guitar if you want, hang out. She’ll probably be hitting you up for a free concert soon.”

Clarke glanced over her shoulder at Lexa apologetically.

“Ignore her.” She poked Raven in the side.

“Ow,” Lexa heard them continue their asides as she left the room.

____________

“So, Lexa…” Lexa jolted upright where she had been sitting at the bench-like table in the kitchen, leafing through the binder and alternately staring at an old copy of Architectural Digest she had found there.

She turned, and Raven’s warm brown eyes were on her, sliding on to the bench next to her, a tablet in her hand.

“Clarke is embarrassed I told you that she googled you and, like the 13-year-old girl she is, she wanted me to show you something.” Raven flipped the cover of the tablet so it was up at an angle they could both look at it propped.

“Do you know how Clarke and I met?” Lexa shook her head. “SKY PRINCESS.”

Lexa couldn’t hide her curiosity as she craned her neck to look where Raven had swiped and there was maybe an 11 or 12-year-old version of Clarke on the screen, dressed in a princess outfit out of a fairy tale. But clearly set in space.

“Cute.” Lexa spoke softly. Raven nodded and swiped again.

“That’s me.” There was a cute Raven working a large computer in the background, a white lab coat and glasses. “I was the brains of the outfit. I still am, really.” She winked knowingly at Lexa and got up, moving to the bowl of fruit on the middle of the island in the kitchen.

“We really weren’t trying to embarrass you or anything.” She began rinsing an apple in the sink. “The internet exists to remind us all we will never be allowed to forget the past.”

Lexa felt her spine stiffen uncontrollably, and swallowed back a surge of anger she felt. She jutted her jaw out proudly.

“I’m not embarrassed.” Raven was chewing and she simply raised an eyebrow at Lexa, encouraging her to go on.

“The band, Trikru, the Commander, it may sound silly, but it’s a part of who I am.” She looked away from Raven and back out the sliding glass door into the valley beyond. “It just brought up a lot of memories, stuff I hadn’t thought about in a long time.”

The truth was she thought about them every day, and fought to repress them, an impossible task.

Raven nodded.

“I get it, I do. Clarke doesn’t want you to think she’s an asshole. She was just curious, that’s all.”

Lexa nodded stiffly.

“Of course.” She felt tired and stood, wondering where the coffee was. “I can’t imagine if I just moved to a new city, had to have emergency surgery, and on top of that they told me some stranger was going to work for me and drive me around. I would do some research myself.”

Raven nodded.

“Watcha looking for?” Lexa was opening cabinets and peering inside.

“Coffee.” They both opened the cabinets till they found some Illy and Raven actually showed her how to work the fancy espresso machine the first time.

“Nothing to it, we’ve got these fancy ones on set and I always have to show the P.A.s.”

She washed her hands and looked at Lexa, “I’ll just go check on Clarke and then I’ll need to take off. I’ve got table reads starting tomorrow I need to prepare for.”

When she left the room, Lexa went back to the tablet and googled Raven’s IMDB page. Sure enough, Raven Reyes was a current series regular on a police procedural, also shooting at Polis Studios.

Interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allthegoodnamesweretakenk.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

Lexa and Clarke fell into a routine over the next few days. Raven was there every morning when Lexa arrived at 8am, and Lexa would check in and either make coffee or go on a run if Clarke had a particular breakfast need, usually picking something off the menu of Le Pain Quotidian.

The private nurse arrived every other day to check on Clarke’s progress and check her stitches, which were supposed to automatically fall out after a few days. There were only three small incisions, according to Clarke, and Lexa always left the room when the nurse was there.

Raven had to leave by noon to get to her table read and then Clarke would find something to watch on TV or scroll through her laptop, reading scripts. The first day Lexa had asked Clarke if she wanted privacy or to be by herself, and Clarke had shaken her head.

“I like having people around.” Lexa had just nodded at her, wide-eyed. She didn’t admit to herself she liked being around Clarke. She found her presence calming. Sometimes Lexa sat on the chair stiffly near Clarke, not saying anything. Pretty soon she fell asleep.

Lexa heard a noise and found Clarke sketching in a blank notepad with charcoal.

“You draw too?” Clarke just nodded as she concentrated, the tip of her tongue between her lips.

“I have so much downtime on set. Ever since I quit smoking…besides,” she finally looked up from her sketch pad at Lexa. “You’re a good subject for a portrait.”

Lexa was stunned, and found she didn’t have a reply to that.

Other times, Clarke would draw her out and talk, until it felt like they were watching together.

On Tuesday, as Raven predicted, Clarke turned her eyes on Lexa where she sat nearby, and pointed at the guitar in the corner.

“Do you still play?”  Lexa shook her head no.

“Really.” More of a statement than a question from Clarke. Then, “Why not?”

Lexa thought about it. How could she express what music had meant to her. What she’d had in the band. What she had lost. How she felt like a part of her had died. To her, the band didn’t exist without Costia in it. There was another past life in another Universe out there.

“I still have my guitars, even a few amps. Everything’s in storage.” Temperature controlled storage, which Indra was paying for. Lexa had never seen a bill. But she didn’t mention that.

“I just…”

Clarke smiled.

“C’mon, try it. Just play a few chords for me.” Lexa looked at her, her lips parted in anticipation. She used all of her energy to make sure her face didn’t register anything. She didn’t want to say no to Clarke. She felt even in such a short period of time that her feelings towards Clarke had changed. Her initial terror and apprehension were turning into protectiveness because of Clarke’s clear need.

Even though she was genuinely starting to like her, Lexa was still scared. She stood up, willing her limbs to move, and went around the bed, picked up the guitar, and sat back on the chaise lounge. There was a pick wedged up in the strings at the first fret and she took it out, placing it next to her. Her hands shook as she strummed and her left hand formed chords, as if through muscle memory.

She played the same few chords, over and over.

Clarke smiled.

“What is that? Sounds kind of familiar,” Clarkes said. “Would I know it?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard it – ‘Ceremony _’_ by New Order. I’m playing the bass line of the whole song. But on an acoustic guitar.” She looked up at Clarke. “When I was a teenager I just learned to play the same chord progressions, over and over, before I knew what they really meant. Or how they related to the lead guitar.”

Clarke nodded, eyeing her. Clarke fiddled with her phone for a moment and soon the opening chords of the New Order song filled the room, then the high-hat cymbals of the drums soon followed.

“Nice.” Lexa gave Clarke an appreciative look.

“I figured out how to connect my phone to the speakers. Can’t live without my Spotify.” Clarke beamed at her.

Lexa switched and began playing Joy Division.

She eyed Clarke.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this one.” Clarke smiled and nodded.

“Love Will Tear Us Apart.” Lexa nodded approvingly at Clarke, like she had passed a small test.

Clarke messed with her phone and the room was soon pulsing with the bass line.

Clarke looked wistful.

“This song is so sad.” Lexa nodded in agreement.

“Definitely. Classic though.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa, her expression still playful.

“Lexa, how old are you?” The corners of Lexa’s mouth turned up. She smiled shyly at Clarke.

“I thought you googled me.”

Clarke smiled, laughing a little and then clutched at her side.

“Ow oow oow….don’t make me laugh!” Clarke gingerly switched her position, still laying propped against multiple pillows, turning the music down until Ian Curtis’ voice was more like a murmuring, pulsing backdrop. “I did, but apparently because you didn’t act, there really weren’t those kind of specific details. It said you were 24 when you got signed by Indra, though.” Lexa nodded.

“That sounds right.”

“How old was I when you were 24?” Clarke challenged her with her eyebrows. “I’m sure you googled me.”

Lexa looked at her, raising an eyebrow back. _Should I be offended Clarke would think that?_ Don’t be an egomaniac, she told herself, it shouldn’t matter anyway. They stared at each other. Finally, Lexa decided to be honest.

“If I was 24, according to your wikipedia page, you would have been 18.” Lexa hesitated, and then went on, “And you were already on a Canadian soap opera?”

Clarke nodded and then reddened slightly, before smirking at Lexa.

“You definitely googled me then.” Lexa felt her face blush this time. She had admitted as much.

Lexa didn’t answer directly. She just looked down at the guitar again and switched what she was playing, with some dramatic chords –

Clarke raised an eyebrow at her.

“Adele? Really?”

Lexa nodded, “Every time I hear that ‘Hello from the other side’ I want to do a dramatic fist pump,” Lexa stopped playing and with one arm brought a fist into her chest. She looked up at Clarke who was still trying not to laugh and holding her sides gingerly. “You seemed like you might enjoy?” She smiled at Clarke shyly. “Don’t tell anyone but, secretly, I think it’s kind of a perfect power ballad.”

It said on Clarke’s Wikipedia page that she enjoyed playing guitar and singing in her free time. “Whatever you do, please don’t start singing.”

Clarke laughed lightly and put her head back on the pillow.

“Never.” She rolled on her side to face Lexa directly, and grimaced slightly. “I couldn’t sing right now, even if I wanted to.”

Lexa eyed her with genuine concern, then smiled to herself. She glowed inside, knowing that she’d been able to make Clarke smile and laugh a little. She had surprised herself that she’d spent over two years away from her guitar and she hadn’t really forgotten much.

Lexa peered over at Clarke, who was still grimacing slightly. She laid the guitar against the chaise and walked over to the bed.

“Are you feeling ok? Need any pain medication?” Clarke shook her head, eyeing Lexa as she moved across the room. Lexa couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. She stared into Clarke’s eyes and drifted away in her mind for a second. _They were really pretty eyes_. Then again, _Clarke_ was really pretty. She shook herself out of those thoughts and tried to concentrate on what Clarke might need. She hadn’t taken care of anyone since Costia, and she wasn’t used to this.

“Are you hungry? Want anything to eat?” Clarke shook her head again. She sat up and rolled back up against her pillows. Then she reached out and patted the space next to her on the white comforter.

“Come up here with me.” Lexa stepped forward and then stopped, giving Clarke an inquisitive look.

“Up there? With you?”

Clarke laughed and patted the bed again.

“Come on, Lexa, I won’t bite.”

She then gave Lexa the brightest smile Lexa had seen from her yet, followed by… “ _Did she just wink at me?”_ Lexa thought as she was pulled, by an invisible tractor beam apparently controlled by Clarke Griffin’s blue eyes, and came to a stop. She found herself leaning against the bed with both hands, bracing herself as if to get up onto it with Clarke.

Clarke surprised her by putting her hand over Lexa’s as soon as she had placed it there. She was so surprised she didn’t filter the first thought to come to her mind.

“Clarke, your hands are freezing, are you warm enough?” Clarke looked up at her with those bright eyes, and in the waning afternoon light streaming through the window, Lexa noticed a freckle over her right eyebrow. Clarke nodded. There was definitely a beauty mark above her lip, which Lexa had seen before, but never this close-up. It seemed to demand study. _Stop. Staring. At. Her. Lips_.

Clarke pulled at Lexa’s arm where her hand was planted on the bed, but with no strength behind the movement.

“Come up here.” Lexa felt she was on shaky ground. She wanted to get on the bed with Clarke, but she didn’t trust these strange new feelings inside of her. Or that she was having them. She had been taking her medications for so long now, precisely in order not to have feelings. She was being paid to help this (presumably) straight, undeniably hot actress, who was currently vulnerable and weak. Lexa was at a loss as far as what she should do in this situation. There was nothing about this request in the binder.

After a moment Lexa decided to ignore her inner voice and climbed up onto the bed, slowly bringing her knees up under her and sitting stiffly beside Clarke. Clarke was still stretched out on top of the white comforter, on her side, watching Lexa with an amused expression on her face, still illuminated by the sun pouring in through the window.

“Good,” Clarke spoke softly, nodding her head approvingly. “ _Lexa kom Trikru_.” Lexa rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help it as her lips turned up in small smile. She turned her face away from those piercing eyes for a moment, grabbed an unused pillow she found and hid her face in it, which muffled her embarrassment.

“Stop it.”

“I don’t know Lexa, you looked pretty badass in that outfit, that war paint on your face. Were those pants real leather?”

Lexa brought her face back up from the pillow, she could feel her face reddened to the tips of her ears.

“Fake leather. I was a committed Vegan at the time. Now what do you want to watch?”

Clarke scooted herself back against her pillows and tapped again to Lexa.

“Come on, lean back.”

Clarke waited, never taking her eyes off of Lexa, who robotically turned herself away from Clarke to face the TV screen and slowly leaned back against the pillow. She was completely shoulder to shoulder with Clarke now, and she could feel Clarke’s eyes still on her, burning holes in her head. Lexa’s heart thundered in her chest. She was definitely alive. She was definitely feeling something.

Clarke exhaled after what seemed like an eternity.

“Ok then. Ab Fab, please.”

Lexa flipped through and at Clarke’s request they started. Lexa was delighted inside because she hadn't seen the show in years and had completely forgotten about it. They were mid-way through an episode when Clarke spoke again.

“So based on what you’ve played me so far, when are you gonna play me some “Friday I’m in Love?”

Lexa smiled to herself. She would absolutely get out her sheet music and study The Cure for Clarke.

“I am so glad to hear that you know about The Cure.”

“Joy Division, New Order, I figured it was coming next.” Clarke elbowed her lightly and chuckled. “Maybe a Venn diagram of 80’s English college bands.”

“Should we really relegate them to college bands?”

“I could see you were a music nerd right away.”

“Halsey? Taylor Swift?” Lexa asked with feigned earnestness. “A _Space Princess_ would surely love her pop music.”

Clarke’s eyes widened.

“Hey, seriously Commander, don’t assume to know my musical taste. You haven’t named one Canadian band yet.”

Lexa turned and eyed Clarke. “What do you mean, there are bands in Canada?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her.

“Don’t say Bare Naked Ladies, either.”

“I would never…”

____________

Lexa’s eyes blinked open and she bolted upright, her heart pounding. She looked around the room, which had darkened considerably, and saw Clarke’s peaceful face on the pillow beside her, half hidden by loose hair, curled on her side under the blanket. Clarke’s phone suddenly rang. Lexa glanced at the TV, which had the “Are you still watching?” screen on as they had let it lapse. She was still getting her bearings as Clarke’s eyes opened and she groggily started to sit up, before laying back down.

“Ouch, shit…” Clarke clutched her shoulder. “Lexa, can you grab my phone?” Lexa reached over Clarke to where she saw the light of the phone illuminating the white comforter. She glanced at the caller ID and told her, “Finn Collins. Should I answer it for you?”

Clarke shook her head and sighed.

“Let it go to voicemail.” It was pretty much out of rings anyway.

“Clarke, I’m so sorry, I fell asleep.” Clarke yawned and smiled, leaning back against her pillow.

“No worries Lexa, we both did.” She cocked her head and eyed Lexa slyly.

“It hurt though, when you threw me off of you.” She indicated her lower abdomen and waist.

Lexa blushed.

“I’m so sorry, the sound of the phone, I was surprised. Did I, did I hurt you?” Clarke shook her head, groaning softly and sighing.

“I blame Finn. He always has the best timing.” Lexa didn’t say anything; she wasn’t sure if it was her place to say anything. Then Clarke muttered, almost to herself.

“And by the best, I mean the worst.”

Lexa looked at her own phone. 9 o’clock. _How long had they been asleep_?

“It’s getting kind of late, do you want me to go and you can call him?” Clarke rolled her head back on the pillow, and eyed Lexa.

“No…actually…I’m not sure how this works, like, if this is beyond the call of duty…” Clarke toyed with her phone, nonchalantly, “but do you think it would be weird if I asked you to stay here tonight?” Clarke brought her eyes up and locked them on Lexa. She spoke softly, her voice still groggy with sleep. “I don’t really want to be alone.”

Lexa stared at her for a moment. _Think, Lexa, think._ Her brain refused to respond for what felt like an eternity.

“I… could call Raven for you…” Lexa said, and then she let it trail off.

Clarke glanced up at her, and the blue eyes felt like icy spikes, piercing her chest.

“I get it, I’m sure you have something you need to get to.”

And slowly, against all of her will, Lexa found herself shaking her head. Clarke had just given her an out, and yet she couldn’t take it. She didn’t even want to take it.

“No. I don’t, actually. I just thought you’d want a friend.” _Not the paid help_ , she thought to herself. “I can stay, I…,” she continued, and her cheeks reddened. “I don’t have any plans. I’ll, uh, I’ll just go check out the guest room.” She moved to sit up and Clarke put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Even without Clarke applying much weight, Lexa felt a jolt of electricity from Clarke’s hand as if it had seared through her t-shirt and hoped her face wasn’t going red again.

“Just stay in here…this bed is big and I’m not contagious.” She smiled at Lexa. “Grab something out of the drawer. We can watch one of those Hitchcock movies you keep telling me are so good.”

Over the past few days, Lexa had learned that she and Clarke had wildly different taste in movies. Clarke felt like Hitchcock was creepy and hadn’t seen many of his movies. While Lexa acknowledged that in real life, he likely _was_ a creepy old man, she couldn’t help that _Rebecca_ , _North by Northwest_ , _Rear Window_ , and _The Birds_ were some of her favorite movies.

“I’ve got a compromise – _Clueless_.” Clarke smiled at her. “Yes.” Then with more energy, “Yass! That's perfect."

Lexa went to Clarke's dresser as directed and found some old work out pants and was looking through Clarke’s t-shirts when she found a vintage Guns N Roses shirt.  
“This makes me happy.” She glanced at Clarke, a shy smile forming on her face.

“What can I say, good taste.” She smiled at Lexa, and again, it felt dangerously close to a wink.

Lexa tried not to picture Clarke in that t-shirt and tight jeans, the image of which immediately filled her mind. Her cheeks burned crimson.

Lexa took the t-shirt and started towards the adjoining master bathroom when she heard Clarke’s teasing voice.

“Lexa, we’re both adults. This isn’t junior high.” Lexa just gave her a look.

“I am working for you Clarke – maybe it’s against some law?”

Clarke laughed at her.

“Oh Lexa, don’t look so serious.” Lexa tried to relax her tense shoulders, clearly Clarke could see how uncomfortable she felt. “Hey,” she leaned forward and spoke softly, “I was just teasing, if you’re shy, I get it.” Clarke went back to the TV with the remote.

When Lexa emerged, Clarke gave her a warm smile as she flipped through the on-screen catalogue of movies.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Clarke groaned in response.

“I wish I could have some wine, so much. But I guess on these meds…my Mom was lecturing me. Could you just bring me some sparkling water? I’m going to fire up my one-hitter.” She turned to her nightstand and looked back at Lexa. “I’m sorry, is that rude? I can definitely share with you.”

Lexa shook her head.

“Not at all, I’m good. I’ll go get that water.” She headed out of the room.

“Lexa, will you make popcorn?” She heard Clarke call after her. Lexa stopped in the hall and stood perfectly still. In her mind, all she could hear was the sound of her own name. When Clarke asked her that, it felt, different. It made her feel _something_. And she hadn’t really felt anything in so long.

_Stop these thoughts_ , she told her mind. _She’s just a friendly person. You can be friends with your employer_ , she told herself.

“Yes, Clarke.” Was all she said in reply.

They never officially talked about it, and for the most part, it just felt natural. They had both dozed off watching TV and when Lexa woke up in the dark with only the blue light of the screen to illuminate the room, she rolled on her side and saw that Clarke’s eyes were closed. Lexa reached for the controller, moving stealthily so as not to make the bed move, and after turning it off she rolled onto her own side, eyes closed, soothed by the thought of Clarke sleeping inches away from her in the darkness of the room. She grabbed a throw from the foot of the bed and pulled it over herself since she was on top of the comforter. She fell asleep to the quiet sound of Clarke’s breathing beside her.

Lexa woke up before dawn the next day, extremely cold in the air-conditioned room, and her heart began thumping as she looked over at Clarke, buried under the fluffy white comforter; blond hair peeking out from where she had cocooned herself. Lexa decided to go for a run in the hills to calm her nerves. As Lexa ran up and down the pavement while the sun began to rise, she found herself noticing her surroundings - had these trees and plants always been here while she had walked or jogged past with Titus in tow? A Jacaranda tree planted in a neighbor’s yard caught her eye, bougainvillea spilling out from a property as she rounded a corner, the white, pink and red colors struck her in a way that made her wonder whether her vision had improved overnight. Everything was saturated in color now, where it was just a dusty, sun-striped chromatic yesterday. As her heart rate plateaued a few miles in to the run, she felt the time pass and the rays of the sun and the first beads of sweat form on her neck, when, all at once, it struck her what was different – _Clarke_. She shook her head slightly, to discourage herself from that thought, but realized she should head back to check on her charge.

Clarke still wasn’t awake when she got back, so she drove herself in Clarke’s ( _Clarke’s Corporation’s_ , she reminded herself) car and went to Indra’s guest house. She took the fastest shower of her life, only wetting her hair, grabbed some extra Xanax, a change of clothes, and sped back to Clarke’s house.

She saw the Canyon supply store and weighed the thought of Clarke waking up to find her missing to how much she might appreciate a smoothie and large coffee. Besides, she was pretty sure Clarke would text her if she woke up. Lexa tried to enter the house quietly but when she closed the door she could almost hear through the hall that Clarke was woken up by it. Lexa padded down to the room and tapped lightly at the door. Clarke sat up, rubbed her eyes and immediately brightened when she saw the coffee – which she took along with the smoothie and began to sip gratefully.

“Thank you,” she looked up at Lexa, “you’re giving me life right now.”

Lexa nodded and gave just the hint of a smile.

“I’ve never spent this much time in bed in my life.” Clarke sprawled back against her mountain of pillows and sighed.  “At least not alone.”

At this comment, Lexa had not dared look up from where she had found a fascinating section of the carpet, and she even went to the other side of the room, in order to examine Clarke’s acoustic guitar, as closely as possible, for as long as possible. She felt the red spread to the tips of her ears nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are different versions of Ceremony by New Order, but this is the version I was imagining - off Substance (1987):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fi33-cITS0s
> 
> and here is the classic - RIP Ian Curtis  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuuObGsB0No
> 
> The Venn Diagram is real  
> https://allthegoodnamesweretakenk.tumblr.com/post/175564123878/venn-diagram-of-my-dreams-goes-with-this


	6. Chapter 6

At the end of that week on Friday afternoon Lexa drove Clarke to a meeting with the Showrunner and some staff at Polis Studios. After the Security gave them what would be the permanent pass and waved them through, Lexa drove directly back to the bungalows where the Production office was housed, and pulled up.

“Door-to-door service.” Clarke smiled at her, and shocked Lexa when she leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t go too far please.”

It probably took Lexa half an hour to feel like her cheek was no longer burning where Clarke’s lips had been. She was extremely annoyed with herself for acting like a teenager with a crush.

Her phone chimed.

Anya: _Nia knows you’re there for Clarkes meeting, and wants you to check in with her. Go to her office._

Lexa sighed and quickly typed back.

_“Yes, boss_.”

She drove to the executive parking lot and was practically waved on without a second glance by the grey-haired security guard when she entered the lobby.

Echo was as friendly as ever when she came to collect Lexa from the waiting area of Nia’s office. She merely grunted at Lexa to follow her.

Nia sat at her large computer screen with thick black glasses on while the door was closed behind Lexa.

The flat-screen mounted on the wall opposite her desk played footage, clearly dailies; Lexa didn’t recognize the actors who all looked benignly attractive.

Lexa sat down and waited for Nia to acknowledge her, a sense of dread gnawing at her stomach.

Finally, after what felt like several minutes, Nia turned and faced Lexa. The glasses framing her face made her look owlish.

“So…how is it going with the Griffin girl?” 

Lexa sat, expressionless, wondering what the right answer was.

“Fine.” Lexa eyed Nia, who didn’t blink.

“Fine?” She parroted back at her. “Not very descriptive, is it Lexa?” Nia sighed and leaned back in her seat, reaching for a cigarette which she took her time lighting. “Never were very talkative, were you?”

Lexa could feel herself gritting her teeth. _Stay calm, stay calm_.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?” She pushed out, still trying to keep her face expressionless. Neither friendly, nor hostile.

Nia sighed and dropped her lighter on the desk.

“Look, Lexa, as I told you before, the studio has an interest in Clarke Griffin – and Finn Collins apparently does as well. There’s a movie we want him to make, and for whatever reason he wants her to co-star. If all goes well, we can schedule it to shoot during her next hiatus.” Nia’s phone buzzed and she picked it up. “Yes?” A voice on the other end spoke. “Just give me a minute. I’m almost done here.”

At that moment Lexa’s phone chimed, too, and she looked down at it.

_“Come get me pullleeeez”_ followed by a raft of emojis. Lexa thought to herself that, of course, Clarke used emoji. She suppressed a smile. She stood up.

“That’s her, I’ve got to go.”

Nia put her handset back. She exhaled and pointed her cigarette in the direction of Lexa’s chest where she stood to leave.

“You know what to do. Get her to work on time. Keep her out of the tabloids. Protect her. But, Lexa….” Nia rubbed her finger to her temple for a moment, “…for Christ’s sake, do not get involved with her.” A tense moment passed, and then Nia raised an eyebrow at Lexa.

Lexa glared back at her.

“I understand.”

They eyed each other for another moment, and then Lexa walked out.

She tried to do calming breaths to still her hammering heart as she went to retrieve the car from the valet. She hated that it felt like Nia could see right inside of her. She didn’t even know how she felt about Clarke. If Clarke was involved with -- or dating -- Finn Collins, there was not a chance she would be interested in Lexa. What was Nia getting at?

_Time has breadth and depth. Time has breadth and depth._

She repeated the mantra from one of her meditation tapes, a gift from Indra after Costia had died, and felt herself steadily even out by the time she pulled up in front of the bungalow to collect Clarke.

They were both pretty quiet as Lexa maneuvered them through the late afternoon traffic.

As they started up the hill, Clarke groaned and leaned back in the passenger seat, her sunglasses glinting when she turned to Lexa.

“I just don’t feel ready.” Lexa kept her eyes on the road and nodded.

“You’ve got to be exhausted from the move, from surgery. From everything that’s happened to you in the past few weeks.”

“I guess,” Clarke trailed off and turned her head to stare out the window again. “That’s part of it.” She was silent, contemplative, and then spoke again a few minutes later.

“Could we go somewhere? Not just straight back to the house?”

Lexa desperately racked her brain and tried to think of where they could go. She was supposed to be the ‘local’ in this situation.

“Of course. Where would you like to go?”

Clarke looked at her thoughtfully.

“This is going to sound silly, but they were telling me in the meeting about Griffith Park Observatory, and, well, the show is SPACE TRAVELERS.”

Lexa glanced sideways as she punched “Griffith Observatory” into the GPS.

“Did they also tell you they shot there on location for the finale of _Rebel without a Cause_?”

Clarke smiled at her flirtatiously.

“I like that you know so much random stuff, Woods.”

“Mockery, Griffin. Has anyone ever told you, it’s the product of a weak mind.”

Clarke scoffed in reaction.

“I wasn’t even mocking you, but whatever.”

Lexa had been teasing her, but she worried Clarke was really offended by what she’d said.

For the first time since Lexa had met her, Clarke sounded insecure as she spoke, pulling off her sunglasses and staring at them as she twirled them slowly in her hand.

“You know growing up and acting on a TV show, after grade-school it was pretty much on-set tutors and, well…” she looked up at Lexa when Lexa put the car in park. “One job lead to another and I never went on to University.”

Lexa gave her what she hoped was a reassuring nod. She turned to Clarke.

“Hey, Clarke…I did go to college here in the states,” she continued on as Clarke perked up in her seat, clearly interested. “Well, Film School, if that even counts. I certainly don’t think I’m smarter or more knowledgeable than you.”

Clarke looked at her furtively.

“Should I tell you that was in your band bio – USC film school – which for the record _is_ pretty impressive to me, Lexa.”

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“And you saw what I did with it – I co-founded a band obsessed with performance art. Stage make-up. And the end result is I have a Bachelor’s of Fine Arts.” She let out a breath. “Just begging to be underemployed.”

Clarke still looked unsure of herself, so Lexa gave her a serious look. It was all she could do not to reach out and touch her. So, after a moment of consideration, she did, as she gently tapped Clarke on the shoulder so she could make sure Clarke was looking her in the eyes when she spoke. 

“Hey, don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not as smart, or you’re less than a person, because you didn’t go to college. Some people are book smart, or they’re good at passing tests and jumping through hoops. Other people have other ways.” Clarke looked up at her. Lexa was not sure where this pep talk was coming from, but it meant everything that Clarke’s eyes seemed to say they believed her. Clarke needed to believe in herself, Lexa knew. Costia hadn’t, and it had cost her her life.

“You seem genuinely curious about the world…” She indicated the Observatory with her hand, “…the universe around you, even. Which is more than most people,” Lexa sighed and looked back at the steering wheel. “I’m sure I’m biased from attending the University of Spoiled Children, but… so many are there just to party and have a good time. Really.”

Clarke nodded, as if absorbing every word. She smiled at Lexa shyly and sent a shot of adrenaline straight into Lexa’s heart. Maybe the speech had worked.

Clarke leaned back against the window and exhaled, drumming her knuckles against the dash briefly before turning her head sideways and peering at Lexa with a half-smile on her face, her eyes twinkling in a curious manner.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone that before.” Lexa peered back at Clarke, curious.

“Told them what?” Clarke held Lexa’s gaze.

“How insecure it makes me feel that I never went to high school, that I got a GED. My mother is a well-known surgeon. My father was an engineer before he passed away. I mean, I am truly the underachiever of the family.”

Lexa blinked at her, taking this in.

“I didn’t know that,” Lexa breathed out softly.

“Know what?” Clarke’s voice was so low when she asked. Lexa swallowed and felt her heart beating. Was it her imagination, or could she sense Clarke’s heart beating faster as well?

“That your father had passed.” Clarke shifted in her seat, thoughtful.

“Well, we haven’t exchanged life stories yet.” They both sat for a moment and then Clarke shifted again, leaned back against the seat, and breathed out again.

“Come on,” she indicated with her shoulder, “let’s go explore space.”

Lexa smiled as she turned to open the door, and called back to Clarke.

“I guess we should.” Then, after a beat: “Since you spend so much time there and everything.”

Clarke smirked at her.

“So who’s mocking who now?”

Lexa smirked triumphantly right back.

Clarke wet her lips before she spoke as they walked along the path to the entrance.

“I knew you were going to watch my show eventually.” She gently bumped Lexa with her hip as she said this.

 Lexa’s face blushed furiously but she raised her head proudly as they walked up the steps of the Observatory and glanced at Clarke, allowing her lips to form the beginning of a smile.

“A few episodes.”

“Uh-huh, just a few episodes.” Clarke’s eyes twinkled at Lexa as they walked through the swinging doors together.

Lexa shrugged nonchalantly.

“I like your jacket, actually.” She paused to get the necessary effect and continued. “You know the one where it looks like a mini-seat belt strapped across your chest. Looks like something I might have worn on-stage.”

Clarke laughed out loud at this, so Lexa continued. “I’m really watching at this point just to see how your jacket survives the season.”

They walked inside and Lexa went to pay before Clarke stopped her with a hand.

“I’ve got this. It’s research for the show, remember?” She smiled at Lexa with what Lexa had determined at this point Clarke could patent as a uniquely “Clarke Griffin near-wink.” This glorious glance made Lexa’s knees weak and her mind go blank.

It was deserted inside the museum section of the Observatory, which was nice and cool and dark, a reprieve from the hot, dusty air outside.

As they walked through the exhibits, Clarke intently read each sign, taking pictures with her phone. Lexa watched her and flashed back in her own mind. She remembered being a teenager and going to a laser light show at the local Natural History museum with Costia. Set to Pink Floyd’s _The Wall_. They had gotten high beforehand, of course. And afterwards. With a bunch of their friends. Lexa was unsettled when she realized, instead of cringing at the thought of Costia, she found herself wondering what Clarke would think of her story. Clarke would probably laugh at her and think she was lame.

“Hey look,” Clarke reached out and gripped her hand around Lexa’s wrist, “The Planetarium.” Clarke pulled them ahead and read the sign out loud.  
“’From Earth to the Universe – a Journey of Cosmic Exploration and Discovery.’ We’re so going!”

Lexa tugged back at Clarke’s hand.

“Let me get this.” She spoke quietly. The tickets were inexpensive; it was the least Lexa could do. Clarke nodded and Lexa got them two tickets. Even though Clarke had to out-earn her by a few thousand per paycheck.

_Why does this feel like a date?_ Lexa asked herself.

_Because you want it to be_. Lexa’s inner voice answered.

As they settled in, Lexa spoke again, cautiously at first.

“This reminds me of being a teenager.” she pushed through her embarrassment with Clarke’s blue eyes on her, encouraging her to go on, “On weekends, sometimes me and my friends we would get high and go to the Pink Floyd Laser Light show, at the Natural History Museum.”

Clarke grinned and nodded.

“Of course you would.”

She nudged Lexa, whose face was still a little embarrassed at what she had revealed.

“I like the sound of the getting high part. The Pink Floyd, not quite as much.”

Lexa allowed a half-smile.

“We couldn’t pick the music. It was better than Led Zeppelin, which was the other one they did a lot.”

Clarke nodded again. She quirked an eyebrow at Lexa.

“So you’re telling me that you don’t like Led Zeppelin?” Lexa turned red but nodded. “You’ve never hummed ‘Thank You’ to yourself?”

Lexa was completely busted. It was like Clarke _knew_ her already.

“Ok, so some of their songs have a certain place in my heart,” she admitted, but then she turned to face Clarke very seriously, “but NOT—“ and Clarke joined her and they spoke in unison.

“—Stairway to Heaven.” Clarke was full on throaty laughing at this point.

Lexa shuddered, not even pretending to hide her distaste.

“Uh huh,” Clarke gazed at her appraisingly and said, “since we’re being honest…does the ‘we,’ of your high school friends…does that include Costia?”

Lexa jerked involuntarily at the name.

Clarke continued on, less confidently, sensing Lexa’s clear apprehension, after a few seconds of silence.

“Costia from the band, I mean…”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded and thought that hearing the name ‘Costia’ come out of Clarke’s mouth had to be the absolute worst mind-fuck she had ever experienced. Nevertheless, she was the genius who had wanted to reminiscence about _high school memories_ to the gorgeous actress she was currently employed by. _Choices, Lexa_! She scolded herself.

“Yeah, we were pretty much always together,” she admitted. Clarke just looked at her intently and nodded.

The lights were dimming, and the “Voice of God” Narration boomed through the speakers – a woman with an English accent. _Of course it is_ , Lexa thought to herself. The **official** sound of American intelligence = an English accent.

“ _The night sky, both beautiful and mysterious…”_

“Lexa,” Clarke leaned towards her and whispered loudly, “not to get too personal” there was an underlying -- _we are so past that anyway_ \-- feeling in the air between them, “was she, was Costia… your girlfriend?”

Lexa didn’t look at Clarke right away but simply nodded. She felt her pulse racing.

“That’s cool.” Clarke loudly whispered again, as if to register she saw the head nod.

“ _The subject of campfire stories, ancient myths, and awe for as long as there have been people…living beneath the open dark sky, the earliest humans were aware of nightly changes as planets march across the sky, the moon waxed and waned, and occasional meteors flared across the horizon_.”

Suddenly the planets were illuminated in the faux “night sky” above their heads. Lexa had always loved these types of shows. Especially in Los Angeles where you never actually saw a star, due to the light pollution. And regular pollution…

“… _at the same time, the first maps of the sky, grouped the brightest stars into familiar constellations.”_

Lexa was surprised to hear Clarke’s loud whisper yet again in her ear again after a few minutes.

“I read that the band broke up, but, do you guys still keep in touch?” Lexa shook her head. She could feel Clarke staring at her.

“… _supported by solid maps, the heliocentric system gained new relevance. According to this, all planets, including earth, revolve around the sun.”_

“Actually,” Lexa paused and swallowed. Not sure she should say it out loud. But Clarke had asked, hadn’t she?

“She died a few years back.”

 “ _The telescope, is an instrument that collects light, and collects images of remote and celestial objects…”_

Clarke squeezed Lexa’s hand gently. Her hand was cold to Lexa’s touch, per usual, and Lexa felt her own hand heat up in response. After a moment, Clarke spoke, her throaty whisper as soothing to Lexa as her cool touch.

“I’m sorry.”

_“With their help we can see deep into space, and through the fog of time, to reveal a Universe inconceivable to the people of the ancient world, a Universe which is vibrantly active and vibrant, and where the game of life and death is played out on a scale that humbles all who observe it.”_

“It’s ok,” Lexa whispered, and squeezed Clarke’s hand back. They exchanged a glance and went back to looking up.

_“…space technology has altered our way of life, and changed our perception of the world, from a place defined by maps and borders, to that of a small and insignificant body in space.”_

When the lights came on twenty minutes later, Lexa blinked and looked around. Aside from an old man up front and a mother with her grade-school age son, they were the only ones there.

Clarke looked at her with a strange expression on her face, as if she wasn’t sure what to say next.

Lexa cleared her throat.

“I haven’t been to the Observatory in years, but if we look hard enough, do you think we’ll find that space-gun you carry in the show?”

Clarke chuckled. Lexa continued, wide-eyed.

“Is that not a real thing for our brave Astronauts?”

“If you behave, maybe I’ll get you one of your own jackets like I wear on the show. Which you’re clearly obsessed with, by the way.”

Lexa was busy worrying whether Clarke meant Lexa was obsessed with her or the jacket, when she felt a playful nudge to her ribs as they walked back to the car.

“You’d probably look better in it than I do.”

Lexa couldn’t help the amused grin on her face.

“With the bedazzled glove, it kind of reminds me of Michael Jackson, not sure why. Moonwalking? Only it’s blue, so it narrowly avoids straight up copying by the color.”

She could feel Clarke’s eye roll in her peripheral vision.

“Well look at you and this comedy act,” she went on sarcastically, “I’ll be sure to tip my waitress.”

Lexa was pleased with herself, but then inwardly thought of what Nia had said.

She should focus on her job. Which, if she didn’t need the money so bad, she would at this point probably volunteer for.

“What do you think you’ll need this weekend? I’m not at the house but I’m on call for any driving.” That had been part of the contract she had signed. She was “on call” even on the weekends she was not required for.

Clarke sighed again and turned her head back forward.

“Finn wants me to go to some party he’s having, but I…I don’t know if I feel up to it.” Lexa glanced at her, her voice completely even, not betraying her apprehensiveness at the thought of what she was about to offer.

“Let me know, if you need a ride.” She glanced down. “If you need anything. It’s really no problem.”

Clarke smiled somewhat joylessly, Lexa thought -- as she’d made a quiet study of Clarke’s various smiles the past couple weeks -- and glanced back at her.

“Thanks Lexa, but you’d be off the hook. He’d send a car for me. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. It still hurts a bit, just walking even.”

Lexa knew Finn Collins by reputation. Matinee idol. Modelizer. She had to admit to herself, she even liked some of his movies; he had been a star since Lexa was a teenager and he was not much older than her. But the thought of him with Clarke turned her stomach.

Lexa left Clarke’s house that Friday night just before 8 o’clock and told Clarke one last time to call her if she needed her.

“If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you on Monday morning, ok?”

Clarke smiled at her from her pillows, firing up her one-hitter as Lexa left the room, _The Mindy Project_ playing on her flat-screen.

“Thanks, Commander.”

____________

 Lexa heard her phone ring. She opened her eyes and heard it again, near her head, on the bedside table. It took her minute to realize what was going on. Where she was.

“Lexa,” the voice was low, shaky.

“Clarke?”  She sat up in bed, instantly alert at the sound of Clarke’s voice on the other end. She turned to look at the electric alarm clock on the bedside table. Almost 2:00am, Sunday morning rather than Saturday at this point.

“I’m putting you on the phone with someone.” A male voice came on the line.

“Hi, are you Lexa?”

“Yes” A brief pause and she heard the male voice turn and speak in another direction before he came back.

“I’m Bellamy Blake, I’m a friend of Clarke’s. Look, she’s pretty wasted and she says you’re her driver or something. Will you come get her? And can you come right now?”

“Yes, of course.” Lexa reached for the drawer in the nightstand to see if there was pen and paper. “Where are you?”

“I’m going to send you the address from Clarke’s phone. It’s gated here, so I’m going to get your name to security. But text me when you’re here, just in case. I’m going to take your number off of Clarke’s phone and text you so you have my number.”

After they hung up, Lexa threw on clothes and was out at Indra’s Jeep within five minutes. She didn’t want to lose time by driving to Clarke’s to take that car. By the time she was climbing in behind the wheel she had received the address and a new text from an unknown number which would be Bellamy. She recognized his name and realized he was a co-star on Clarke’s show. The address was high in the Hills above Los Feliz and it took her twenty minutes before she wound her way to the security gate at the edge of a side street. She was given entrance upon showing an I.D. and pulled up to a deceptively large mansion tucked amongst the trees and brush. Out front there were several people gathered and Bellamy stepped out, holding Clarke in his arms.

Lexa jumped out of the car and hurried around to the side, opening the door.

Bellamy cautiously put Clarke in the passenger seat.

Lexa carefully closed the door and turned to him.

“Is she ok?” she asked. He nodded his head.

“She drank too much, they got in some sort of fight. I swear I only left her alone for less than half an hour, and before I knew it I found her passed out in the bathroom. I just don’t want to deal with Finn, so I want to get her out of here before he realizes what’s going on.”

Lexa nodded. 

“Thanks for coming so fast. Get her home safe.” 

Lexa nodded again and got back in. She made sure Clarke’s seat belt was buckled and pulled around the circle drive, pausing at the guard gate and pretty much going as fast as the old Jeep was capable, cringing every time she felt the vehicle go over rough road, peering over at Clarke as she desperately tried to avoid pot holes. It was as if these roads hadn’t been paved in twenty years, which knowing how much they were used, was probably somewhat accurate.

Clarke eventually stirred in the seat beside her at a stop light.

“Thanks for coming to get me.” She reached out her hand and reached towards Lexa’s shoulder, barely grazing her, before she let it drop at her side.

“What…who’s car is this.” She slurred, then laid her head back and closed her eyes again.

“Indra’s.” Clarke didn’t open her eyes, but after a few moments she spoke again.

“Oh right, Indra Gona.” More silence for a few moments, bumping along the road. Then, “the mysterious Lexa Woods. Lives in Indra’s guest house, gets assigned to random shit by Nia, the Ice Queen.”

Suddenly she could feel Clarke’s eyes on her. Lexa dared herself to glance over and meet her eyes.

Clarke’s hair appeared to have started out the evening pulled back, but now most of it was messy and hanging limply, framing her face. Lexa could barely make out her eyes in the streetlights.

“I want to know.” Clarke’s voice was husky. “If it wasn’t so over the top, I’d think you had a secret.”

Lexa continued to face forward and kept her face expressionless. Drunk Clarke felt dangerous. She spoke gently.

“There’s nothing to know.”

Clarke made a noise, sounded like, “ _pfffhhtt_.”

Lexa paused and tried to change the subject.

“Do you think you’ll be sick? We can stop anytime. I know this Jeep is a pretty bumpy ride.”

They came to a red light. She felt a hand on her arm. She didn’t want to turn.

“I’m serious.” Finally, Lexa turned her head and faced those very blue eyes.

“You’re drunk.” It worked, as the very serious look on Clarke’s face turned slowly to a lazy smile and she took her hand off of Lexa’s arm, turning away. The skin of Lexa’s forearm tingled where Clarke’s hand had pressed.

“That’s true.” Clarke almost giggled. “That’s a true statement.”

The light turned green and Lexa pushed on, and after what felt like the longest twenty minutes of her life winding down Sunset, back on to Mulholland, she was at the house, gently maneuvering up the drive trying to jostle the once again sleeping Clarke as little as possible. It was a one car garage and she couldn’t pull in with the SUV already inside.

Clarke’s head jerked at the stop and Lexa cut the engine.

“Do you think you can walk?” Clarke gave her the widest drunken smile.

“O’ course Lexa, this isn’t my first...” She opened the door as she trailed off.

“Wait, wait,” Lexa jumped out and ran around just in time to scoop up Clarke as she nearly tumbled out of the side in her short black dress.

“Whoa, steady there.” She helped stand Clarke upright, who looked down at the ground and then bent over as she leaned heavily into Lexa.

She heard a noise and saw Lincoln approach, walking up the drive in a casual suit.

He nodded at Lexa, who nodded back.

“Lincoln, hey,” Clarke smiled at him and then frowned, puzzled, “what are you doing here?”

Before he could reply she looked down at her own bare feet on the pavement.

“I have no idea what happened to my shoes.”

Lexa thought about it for a second, then thought, _what did she have to lose_?

She took one of Clarke’s arms, lifted her back up to a standing position, and put her arm around her neck. She made sure Clarke had the black clutch Bellamy had delivered along with Clarke, and then she scooped up Clarke with her other hand– and Clarke promptly let out a happy sounding drunken shriek of surprise.

“Commander!”

“Shhhh. We’ll find your shoes later,” Lexa’s voice remained completely calm, and almost sounded unnatural to herself. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to walk barefoot outside.”

She walked them from the drive across the walkway to the door, which was set in on the left-hand side of the ranch style house. She thought Lincoln would walk with them, but she glanced back where he just stood on the driveway, watching them with an amused smile on his face.

Lexa carefully set Clarke down again beside her and Clarke wisely chose to lean back against the frame of the house for support as Lexa punched in the security code for the front door.

“My hero.”

Lexa rolled her eyes at her, and as the deadbolt unlocked she pushed the door open.

“Are you coming inside?”

Clarke dragged herself in behind her.

“I liked it better when you were carrying me.”

Lexa turned and met Clarke’s challenging stare as she closed the door and worked the electronic keypad and set the security system.

“I don’t want you to throw up on me.” She couldn’t help but smirk at Clarke, who scoffed and pouted, trying to look offended.

“You so underestimate me, Lexa.” Clarke stumbled forward and Lexa shadowed her, at her elbow.

“I think that’s probably true, Clarke.” Lexa spoke softly. “Should we go to the kitchen and get you some water?” Clarke was fading fast.

“No…sleep….bed.” She grabbed at Lexa trying to pull her with her in the direction of the bedroom down the hallway to the left. Lexa let herself be pulled but when Clarke was safely dropped on the bed, Lexa pulled back. Clarke lay on her side with her legs pulled up under her, make-up smeared, hair tousled against the sheets. Staring up at Lexa with a curious expression on her face. Even gloriously sloppy, Clarke was gorgeous.

“I’m going to go get you water, ok?” Clarke shook her head no.

“Stay here.”

Lexa spoke reassuringly. “I’ll be right back.”

Clarke nodded and issued a hoarse “Ok then, if you come right back.”

Lexa nearly shook with trepidation as she walked back to the kitchen. She felt like she was dealing with a wild – _adorable, yes_ \-- but nevertheless wild animal that she couldn’t control.

She took her time in the kitchen, opening cabinets she had never explored before, pulling out a soup pan and getting a giant bottle of expensive still water.

“ _Time has breadth and depth_ ,” she thought to herself, breathing deeply.

She asked herself what she was so afraid of. She realized she was terrified to go back to that room.

She walked down the hallway and in the near silence of the house she could hear her own heartbeat, feel her pulse race. _Just do it Lexa, woman up._

The door was still half way open and she slowly pushed it forward. All she saw was a mass of blond hair on the pillow, the comforter pulled up high.

The black dress was on the floor, along with a bra. _No comment Lexa._

She walked silently across the hardwood floor and set the water and the pan down on the side table where Clarke slept. She silently walked back across the room, thankful this rental had clearly been so recently remodeled there was no chance of creaking floor post. She padded down the hall and into the kitchen. Lexa had intended to write a note to Clarke, telling her she was across the hall in the guest room, but she couldn’t find a post-it or any paper to write on. Oh well.

Lexa went to the guest room and shook off her jeans. She hadn’t even bothered putting a bra on she had been in such a hurry to leave. She would sleep in her t-shirt.

Her phone chimed. It was Lincoln.

“Hey.” She answered it in a clipped tone. She wasn’t sure how that display out on the driveway might be reported by Lincoln…to whoever he reported to. She prayed it wasn’t Nia.

“How is she?” He asked.

“She’ll be fine, she just overdid it a little.” Unconsciously she turned in the direction of Clarke’s room. “Did it look bad?”  She turned back to the window and the closed venetian blinds of the guest room. Out on the driveway she had been reminded of what she usually managed to forget, that they were undoubtedly being watched. Pretty much all the time.

He gave a low chuckle.

“Not too bad. One of my guys called me. Just thought I’d check in. We made sure no paparazzi were around. She’s not really on their radar, but they knew Collins was having a party and were hanging around the gate.” She nodded, more to herself and of course he couldn’t see it, voicing her thoughts aloud, what she had begun to realize.

“Lincoln, does she know, that,” how should she put it? “That she is under—“

“Surveillance?” He finished her thought. Lexa’s eyes immediately went to the corners of the room, looking for mounted cameras. Why had she not looked before? He continued, “it’s not like we have cameras in the house or anything.”

Her body relaxed in relief. It hadn’t even occurred to her until then that they might. She felt her total exhaustion, now that the endorphins had worn off. He hadn’t answered the question. Lexa was so, so tired though. She wouldn’t push tonight.

“Goodnight, Lincoln.” She said simply.

“Goodnight, Lexa.” She heard him hesitate for a moment, as if he was about to say something else. “Good looking out.” He clicked off.

Lexa slipped between the cool sheets and tried to quiet her mind, which was extremely loud and full of nagging thoughts. One item her mind kept reminding her of was that Clarke was surely naked, underneath that large white comforter. _So what?_ She asked herself. Why did the head of the Studio, or her own Team, have such tight security on Clarke? Lexa lay awake for what felt like ages before she went under, sleeping fitfully. Thankfully dreamless.

____________

Her phone chimed at her. Lexa opened one eye and tried to remember where she was. The phone chimed again. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at the white ceiling above her. She looked to her right, a print of a Mondrian she had failed to notice last night, and the window, venetian blinds still shut tight. Clarke had mentioned this place came furnished. It was painfully modern. Chime.

She grabbed her phone.

“H’lo?”

“Leeeexxxaaaaa,” Clarke groaned into her ear. She pulled the phone away to look - _7:38am._

“I’m here Clarke, I’m in the guest room.”

“Oh.” Just breathing, followed by silence for a moment. “Thanks for the water.” She could hear the covers ruffling in the background. She stopped herself from picturing Clarke naked. “Can you bring me some ibuprofen? There must be some around here. I just,” she sighed, “can’t move right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.” Lexa hung up her phone and went to the kitchen, finding the bottle of Advil and brewing coffee on the Illy espresso machine the way Raven had taught her. Then she took a deep breath and headed back to Clarke’s bedroom. To her relief – and perhaps a tiny bit of disappointment - Lexa found Clarke sprawled against a mound of pillows in a light green tank top and dark gray yoga pants. Lexa sat down on the edge of the bed, holding up the bottle in her hand.

“I doubt you feel up to food or anything yet.” Clarke shook her head sadly at her, her eyes bleary and bloodshot.

“Not even close.” She shook out two Advil and Lexa handed her the water bottle still sitting on the bedside table.

“Never…going…to drink again.” Clarke mumbled as she lay back against the pillows.

“We’ve all been there.” Lexa tried to sound sympathetic, but even to herself her voice sounded robotic. Clarke brought her glazed, blue eyes up to Lexa’s.

“Even you, Lexa?”

Lexa blushed under the intensity of the gaze. She looked down.

“Especially me, Clarke.” She examined her own finger nails before glancing back up after a moment. “I used to be so bad with it, I don’t even drink anymore. For the most part.”

Clarke slowly twisted the cap back on the bottle and set it down, before looking back at Lexa.

“It’s too soon for me to say this, but that’s a shame.” Clarke put one elbow across her eyes. “I just don’t think I could ever give up wine.”

Lexa smiled at her.

“Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

Clarke peered at her from under her own arm after a few moments, almost child-like, checking that she was still there.

“Know any foolproof hangover cures?” Lexa leaned back across the foot of the bed, stretching out on her side, she was also extremely tired from the lack of sleep.

“If your stomach can handle it, a Big Gulp from 7-eleven.” Clarke nodded.

“I might be able to handle that. Diet with extra ice.” Lexa shook her head.

“For this level of hang-over you should go all the way and have regular.” She paused. “Your body needs the sugar. Then, as soon as it opens, I’ll go and get you In-N-Out because you probably need a greasy hamburger.”

Clarke shut her eyes again and groaned.

“The thought of that right now makes me nauseous.”

Lexa simply blinked, and spoke calmly.

“If you can keep some food down later – I’ll give you a Xanax. That will help.”

Clarke took her arm away, looking intrigued.

“Ok…now why did I not know you have Xanax on you?”

Lexa glanced at the window where the sun was starting to penetrate the venetian blinds and shrugged.

Clarke furrowed her brow.

“Wouldn’t it do the same thing to just smoke a little?”

Lexa shrugged again.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I haven’t smoked pot in ages. But I guarantee the Xanax will take the edge off the hangover.”

Clarke exhaled.

“Taking pills is kind of what got me into this.” She glanced guiltily at Lexa. “I knew I shouldn’t when I was already drunk.”

“Finn?” Clarke sighed again, and reached two of her fingers from each hand to massage her temples.

“If it’s a bad decision, it usually involves Finn.”

Lexa simply nodded, even though Clarke wasn’t looking at her. She had made her share of bad decisions, most, if not all, of which had involved Costia. She turned back after a few moments and found Clarke eyeing her curiously.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Clarke rolled on her side as she spoke, facing Lexa.

Lexa felt her eyes widen just slightly.

“No-o?” She breathed out slowly, surprised, and it almost came out sounding like a question.

Clarke looked taken aback, so Lexa continued.

“It’s really not my place to ask.”

Clarke’s gaze on her only intensified. This is a transactional relationship, Lexa reminded herself, as her pulse began to speed up under the heat of Clarke’s eyes.

“What if I want you to ask?” Clarke’s voice was low, throaty.

Lexa blinked, making sure she had heard correctly.

“Then I will.”

Silence as they stared at each other. In the silence Lexa remembered back to her Grandparent’s living room, a clock that not only ticked off the minutes, it chimed on the quarter hour. What a time it had been to be alive, when there had been sounds to remind you the time was ticking away. Not like now, where you had to reach for a phone. Or look for some other digital appliance.

Finally, Lexa swallowed.

“Do you want me to, Clarke?” She felt herself put a slight accent on the ‘k’ as the name rolled off of her tongue. She just loved the sound of Clarke’s name, she couldn’t help herself.

For just a moment, Lexa saw something flash in the furious blue irises of Clarke’s eyes. Lexa almost wondered if Clarke had forgotten what she had asked her. Then after a moment Clarke’s eyelids began to droop.

“Wake me up when it’s time for In-N-Out. Even though I can’t eat it. I just want to watch you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why they added a seat belt to Clarke's jacket in Season 2, but I find it endlessly amusing.
> 
> https://allthegoodnamesweretakenk.tumblr.com/post/173686338498/clarkegriffin-this-gif-is-so-attractive-like-o-k"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments- means a lot.

Clarke’s first few days of shooting were a blur for Lexa. There had been no more mention of Finn after that last conversation.

Clarke insisted that Lexa stay in the guest room, since she had to be up by 4:00am to start coffee brewing and make sure they were both awake. “Round 1,” Clarke termed it. Lexa tended to just wear her hair in a simple braid, or a few braids, since she had to get up so early and was constantly napping and showering at odd hours.

Lexa made sure that Clarke was up no later than 4:45 am since, as Clarke explained, she had her own process for gaining consciousness and Clarke’s call time was (to Lexa) an ungodly 6:00 am for hair and make-up, so she needed to take a quick shower before they left. Lexa was so fearful of being late that she checked the traffic constantly on her phone, typically ensuring that they left no later than 5:20 am. Even that early in the morning, the traffic up and down the canyon could get nasty, especially if there was an accident of any kind.

Clarke was always busy through mid-morning and half of the time Lexa found her way back into the SUV and lay down in the backseat. 

One day her phone chimed.

“H’lo?” She mumbled. It was Clarke.

“Lexa where are you?” Lexa swallowed, and before she could speak, Clarke spoke again. “Can you come to my trailer?”

When she arrived, Clarke had scripts spread out around her and was furiously scrolling through her phone. She glanced up at Lexa.

“Where were you?” It was nonchalant, not demanding in anyway. But she clearly wanted to know.

“I was in the car.” Lexa didn’t have the energy to lie.

“Doing what?” Clarke continued to scroll through her phone rather than look at Lexa.

“Lying down.” Clarke stopped what she was doing and looked at her incredulously.

“Like in the backseat?” Lexa nodded.

“Lexa, just come to my trailer. Stay here if you need to. No one will question you.”

Lexa looked around, sheepish.

“But this is your space, Clarke. I don’t want to intrude.”

Clarke handed her a script and pointed to a highlighted section of paragraph.

“Don’t be weird. When you’re with me, my space is your space, ok?” Clarke did the patented near wink at her and Lexa felt a woosh as her stomach flipped and did a cartwheel. “Now help me learn these lines, I keep fucking this part up.”

“I really hope you’re wearing your blue jacket in this scene.” Clarke’s jaw dropped. Then she picked up her phone.

“Siri: take a note.”

A moment, and then Siri responded.

“Siri voice: _Ok, I can take that note for you. Just tell me what you want it to say.”_

Clarke stared at Lexa as she spoke into her phone again, never dropping eye contact.

“Let it be known that on this day, the stoic, silent type that is Lexa Kom Trikru – will not be satisfied until she possesses the jacket of one Starfleet Captain Malone, Interplanetary Arker Federation. Her request is under consideration.”

“Here’s your note.” Siri responded, repeating in that stilted voice and calling Lexa “Alexa come trick you,” which made both Lexa and Clarke roll with laughter.

Clarke nodding approvingly at her phone before dropping it beside her. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Lexa.

“Any other remarks before we start?”

Lexa smiled quietly and shook her head.

____________

They developed an unofficial routine over the next few weeks. After shuttling Clarke into hair and makeup, Lexa would go get Clarke her favorite smoothie from the on-site caterer: kale, spinach, blueberries, strawberries, spirulina, and flaxseed -- with just enough almond milk to make it blend. Lexa would bring it along with a large black coffee, and deliver it to Clarke in the hair and make-up trailer. Then, she would head to Clarke’s trailer and sleep on her couch for a few hours.

Clarke would come back before it was time to block her scenes and wake Lexa up.

Lexa would run lines with Clarke as needed, and then they would hang out and wait for the 2nd AD or his PA to show up for Clarke.

After that, Lexa didn’t usually see Clarke again between blocking and shooting, unless Clarke was waiting for lighting to be done, and then she might come back to her trailer again. Bellamy had set up what sounded like every game console on the market – from Playstation to Xbox, even Nintendo -- in his trailer. Clarke had told her that she and the other cast members hung out there a lot between takes. Lexa was free to wander off most afternoons – sometimes she had some odd errand to run for Clarke, but more often, she left to use the employee gym in the late afternoon when it was pretty much deserted. There was a ton of downtime.

Fighting boredom was a real thing. If Clarke was in a lot of scenes, they didn’t leave until 10 or 11, the worst nights wrapping around 2am. Clarke, as the Captain of the ship, was usually in most of the scenes shooting that day. The one positive was that between the ship and “outer space,” the sets were completely built on soundstages, so there were no night shoots.

Still, Lexa didn’t dare go too far from the set or off the lot, in case Clarke needed her for anything. There was no easy way to get back on to the Lot and to “base camp” for the show if she left. For that reason, the job was mostly a lot of waiting around for Lexa, and Clarke had brought her guitar to the trailer and encouraged Lexa to play while she waited. Lexa was working on all her favorite 80’s to play for Clarke – The Cure as promised, New Order, My Bloody Valentine, even some INXS and REM. Lexa was shocked Clarke had never heard of My Bloody Valentine and had made her an entire playlist of Shoegaze, shyly explaining that sonically the band was a huge inspiration for Trikru.

Lexa would check on Clarke every night before she went to bed. She would knock on Clarke’s door, typically half-open to begin with, and she would find her bathed in the blue light of the television.

“Goodnight Clarke.”

Clarke would always smile at her, eyelids drowsy and scrolling on her tablet or looking at her phone.

“Night Lexa.”

Lexa would walk to the guest room and pretty much pass out when her head hit the pillow, knowing her alarm would go off at 430am the next morning.

One day, Clarke had a shorter shooting schedule and they were able to leave earlier than usual. Lexa walked to the guest room and sat on the bed, staring at the Mondrian print. She wasn't tired, in fact, she felt restless. She flopped back on the pillow of the bed, and the memory of the first time she met Nia floated into her head. Costia had arranged for them to get a paying gig their senior year at SC. Lexa didn’t want to take the gig because she got a bad vibe from the student booking it, Ontari. The glowering brunette was always hanging around at their live shows. Mainly hanging around Costia.

“Come on Lexa, it’s her 21st birthday.”

“Do you really care that it’s her birthday? Or is it the free bowls of ecstasy featured at all of Ontari’s house parties?”

Costia insisted that it was the novelty of getting paid, and not her growing habit. It had reached the point neither of them could deny. When they had started school their freshman year, the agreement was that they would never pay for drugs, beyond pot. Lately, Costia was taking everything and anything she was offered. It was really starting to worry Lexa. Costia had pulled Lexa in with a kiss in the bedroom of their modest off-campus apartment, and described how wealthy Nia was, the head of a film studio, and that Ontari had suggested Nia’s mother could help her get into acting.

“Why do you want to act? You’ve never mentioned it before.” Lexa asked, her green eyes thoughtful as she stared at the ceiling.

“That’s what we’re doing on-stage Lexa, you know it. We are the Trikru. You are Lexa Kom Trikru, the Commander, our leader chosen by Fate or the Gods, or whoever.” Costia leaned up on her arm beside her. “Besides, I don’t want to be myself, I never have.” She looked down. “I’ve never kept that a secret.”

“Costia, you’re perfect,” Lexa took her chin in her own hand and kissed her gently. “I tell you all the time and you never listen to me.”

Lexa was pulled out of her thoughts when her phone chimed.

_“Hey Lexa – you awake?”_

Lexa looked at the clock, and even though she knew she should be going to sleep soon, she headed towards Clarkes bedroom obediently, and sat on the edge of the bed where Clarke directed her with a wave. The lights were turned down low, a rock salt lamp on Clarke’s bedside glowing. Clarke had muted the TV in the background. There was some music playing quietly. Over time Lexa had discovered that though Clarke embraced a truly wide array of music from female singer-songwriters like Feist, India.Arie, and Kate Nash just to name a few, her favorite turned out to be dance music like Cut Copy, Flight Facilities, and Jamie xx.  Clarke stopped what she was doing with her baggie atop a notebook sitting on her lap and her hands stilled. She turned her head and peered at Lexa, showing her a petite glass bowl.

“Smoke with me?” Lexa was so tired, she cocked her head at Clarke warily, unsure.

“I don’t know Clarke, I have a bit of a headache.”

She tried to place what was playing in the background. Was it Massive Attack? There was a female vocalist, whatever it was.

“This always helps me when I have a headache.” Clarke gave her the patented near-wink.

Feelings really are weakness, Lexa thought to herself as she shook her head in surrender. She couldn’t find it in herself to say no.

“Ok.”

Clarke packed the bowl as they sat in silence. Was she searching for stems? Completely unnecessary with what Lexa was procuring for her. Expensive and high quality. After she had taken a hit, she passed it to Lexa, watching her curiously.

Lexa inhaled and held as long as she could for being out of practice. She coughed and then almost choked at Clarke’s reaction, chuckling at her.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before, Lexa Kom Trikru?”

Lexa’s entire face was red at this point and her eyes were watered.

“Yes,” she half laughed and coughed at Clarke. “Out of practice.”

“I don’t want to feel like I’m corrupting you.” Lexa shook her head, wiping quickly at her eyes.

“Never.” She propped her head on her hand and leaned down on her elbow, thinking about her alarm clock in the other room. “We do have to get up early though. I should probably take it a little easy.”

Clarke paused and took a shaky breath. This was the first moment Lexa realized that something was bothering Clarke. She tapped her hands against the notebook on her lap, looked down and then back up at Lexa, with a weight behind her eyes.

“Remember when Lincoln was here, that night?” Lexa nodded. “Lincoln’s girlfriend Octavia is one of my best friends, so when he showed up out of nowhere I texted her. She’s had shitty cell service in Romania where she’s on location, but she finally got back to me today. She told me he’s been assigned to me.”

Clarke paused to take her lighter over the bowl and inhale again. She blew out after a moment. “Lexa, did you know this?”  

Lexa blinked, as Clarke handed the bowl back to her. She never considered for a moment lying to Clarke. It was not in her nature to lie, and the feeling of loyalty growing to Clarke, who she thought of as her charge, rather than her boss, was growing to be more like devotion every day. She wasn’t crafting her response, but wondering what the answer would mean.

“I did,” she nodded seriously. She took a deep inhale, and handed it back to Clarke, holding her breath before exhaling.

Clarke nodded, and Lexa couldn’t read the response in her face, so after a moment of silence when Clarke looked back down, she continued.

“The day they brought me here, to meet with Marcus, your Mom…Lincoln was the last to arrive. They told me he was security.” She stared intently at Clarke, who looked down again, tapped out the remnant of the bowl and began to refill it as Lexa spoke. “They didn’t tell me why. This job…had come up so suddenly…everything happened so fast, I just, I didn’t think to ask if you knew. There was so much…so much new information I was absorbing.”

Clarke didn’t look up. Lexa steeled her face in a mask of calm, even as her stomach started to sink with a feeling of…was it dread?

“Are you…was I supposed to tell you?”

After Lexa asked, she watched Clarke light up the bowl again, holding for as long as she could, before she passed it back to Lexa. Clarke began to speak.

“This is so…kind of fucked up. I don’t know what’s going on. Why my Mom or Marcus didn’t tell me. It’s ok that you didn’t tell me, I mean, we just met and like you said, you didn’t even know that I _didn’t_ know.” Lexa handed it back to Clarke, along with her lighter.

Lexa started to feel just the smallest bit high. Is that what Clarke wanted?

Lexa stretched out on her side, even putting her arms over her head for a minute like a cat, becoming more relaxed in spite of herself. They promised the medical marijuana got you high without the paranoia she remembered all too well. Maybe it was actually true.

“Clarke,” she dragged out the name a little longer than usual, slowing down, clicking on the ‘k’ like usual, “did you want to get me high just so you could ask me this?”

Clarke stopped mid-drag and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she coughed out a little. “Lexa, no…”

Clarke sighed and laid back a little against the pillows. She turned on her side and took a quick hit.

“I needed to get high. There’s something…” Clarke shook her head like she was having an internal argument with herself. She smiled after a moment and turned again to Lexa, “I’ve wanted to smoke with you for a while…I found my favorite glass bowl.”

Lexa nodded appreciatively.

“It’s so…so clean looking.” Clarke gave a laugh at that description. Lexa continued, “I never meant to hold out on you, you know. And you don’t need to…,” she couldn’t think of the right words. She liked Clarke so much – her heart was filled with Clarke the way her lungs were filled right in this moment.

Clarke nodded.

“I trust you, Lexa, I do.”

Even as Lexa felt her eyelids burn, aching to close, she was awakened somewhat by those words. She feared that kind of trust. Clarke didn’t seem to notice any change in Lexa’s demeanor, as her eyelids began to droop where she lay against the pillows. Lexa slipped off the bed as quietly as she could, walking to Clarke’s nightstand and turning the rock salt lamp off.

“I’ll just let you get to sleep then.”

“Thanks, Lexa. Goodnight.”

She left the room where the blue of the flat screen cast its light over Clarke’s sleeping figure.

Back in the guestroom, Lexa was unable to fall asleep, as her mind wandered again and again to Costia. She remembered the first time she had met the so-called Ice Queen. She thought to herself, _“Time has breadth and depth.”_

____________

Lexa was doing a miniature ad-hoc sound check with Luna and Nyko when Costia unplugged her guitar to get her attention.

“Lexa, come with me.” She bounced forward excitedly, taking Lexa forcefully by the wrist and leading her across the courtyard to a table set back away from the infinity pool.  
Costia waved at a woman wrapped in a kaftan and shaded by an umbrella overhead. The woman waved back at them and finished a conversation on her phone, taking off her oversized black sunglasses and glancing around her imperiously, Ontari perched at her side.

“Nia, this is Lexa, who I was telling you about.” Lexa reached out and matched the firm grip of the hand Nia had offered her, never breaking eye contact, even as she could feel an ominous stare from Ontari boring into her from the side. Costia was focused on Lexa and Nia.

“Nice to meet you, Lexa. I’ve heard so much about you.” Lexa bowed her head ever so slightly.

“Likewise. Thank you for having us play here tonight.”

Nia drew herself back and even sitting down she was rather intimidating, her piercing blue eyes taking in Lexa. Beside her, Ontari’s face would immediately change to a pleasant smile whenever Costia turned in her direction. Lexa didn’t break eye contact with Ontari whenever she would play these games. She stood her ground and stared directly back into her. She was not intimidated in the slightest.

“Come on Costia, come help me with my outfit, they can talk.” Costia glanced wordlessly at Lexa, who gave her a quick nod, before following after Ontari to the path which led to the main house several feet away.

Nia stood and gestured for Lexa to join her.

“Let’s walk for a moment. I want to check on the staff getting ready for tonight.” They walked past a small battalion of wait staff, most in standard catering uniforms, readying long buffet tables with hot plates and serving implements. Others were stringing and hanging lights overhead.

“I want everything perfect for my daughter tonight.” Nia leaned in towards Lexa even as her eyes never left the staff. “You know, my daughter seems quite taken with that band of yours.” She let the statement hang there as they walked slowly around the courtyard.

“Costia tells her you might be looking to have another member join.” Lexa’s heart sank, though her face remained expressionless. She kept her tone neutral.

“I wasn’t aware that Ontari played an instrument.” Nia harrumphed and stopped, putting her sunglasses back on.

“She doesn’t. As a matter of fact, she sings.” Lexa looked up at the cloudless sky, wanting to be anywhere but here, having this conversation with this woman. She never should have agreed to this.

“We already have a singer.” Nia turned her head and zeroed in on a balloon arch being placed over the stage. Lexa waited until Nia’s eyes were back on hers. “I am the lead singer.”

“Many bands benefit from having more than one vocalist. Besides,” and here she pointed her oversized, designer sunglasses directly at Lexa, “Costia tells me she wants to act. You know, I could help with that.” Lexa blinked, looking away and down at her feet. That was weakness, turning away from the woman’s vulture-like demeanor.

“It’s important to have friends in this town, Lexa. I can be a friend to you and Costia.”

_Time has breadth and depth._

____________

Lexa slept fitfully that night, and when she dreamt, she could see the rain pouring from that skyrise building in the strange city, but she never caught a glimpse of Costia.

____________

Lexa sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding. She felt a layer of cold sweat in the cool of the air conditioning. For the first time since she began working for Clarke, she didn’t wonder where she was. She knew immediately. She picked up her phone; 3:00 in the morning. She had to be up in an hour. Once again, as if there was a gravitational pull her body could not resist, she found herself walking down the hallway to check on Clarke. She just wanted to know that she was ok.

The door was slightly ajar, and Lexa saw the blue light, indicating that the flat screen had never been turned off. Lexa stepped as quietly as she could into the room and approached the bed and the massive white comforter, looking to see if the controller was in plain sight. Clarke stirred. Lexa immediately froze in place. What would Clarke think if she found her in her room in the middle of the night?

“What time is it?” Clarke spoke groggily as her head appeared from underneath the covers.

“I’m so sorry Clarke, I couldn’t sleep so I just thought I’d check in on you.” Lexa whispered. She spotted the controller when Clarke had shifted and hit the power button, plunging the room into darkness.

“Why are you whispering?” Clarke whispered at Lexa.

“I didn’t want to wake you. I guess it’s too late.”

“It’s ok, Lexa.” Clarke patted the space beside her. “Do you want to stay?” Lexa nodded, even though Clarke was not facing her. She crawled into the bed, staying as far as she could on the other side.

“Goodnight Clarke.”

“Don’t worry Lexa,” Lexa smelled Clarke’s coconut milk shampoo smell drift across to her when Clarke shifted in the bed, “We’re never getting you high on a work night again.”

Lexa fell asleep with a small smile on her face, to the sound of Clarke’s soft breathing beside her.


	8. Chapter 8

The second week of shooting, Lexa perked up as Clarke entered the trailer, immediately awake, and Clarke proudly presented her with a soft fleece blanket with the show’s insignia, a space ship -- and the words “SPACE TRAVELERS” in large, bold letters. Lexa couldn't help herself -- she was incredibly touched by the gesture and smiled broadly when she saw it.

Clarke simply smiled, stared directly at her, and said, “You can think of me whenever you use it.”

_I think of you all the time, Clarke_ , Lexa immediately thought. Instead, she nodded and let her small smile speak for her in return.

“I will.”

Lexa pulled the fleece around her, thinking of the morning after she had ended up in Clarke’s bed at 3:30am the previous week. Even having left her phone -- and therefore her alarm -- in the other room, her eyes had snapped open exactly one hour later when she needed to get up, at 4:30am. In the silence, she realized she was snuggled up against Clarke, warm and soft, breathing into the back of Clarke’s neck, her arm thrown around her. Without moving, she almost gasped when she felt Clarke sigh underneath her.

“What time is it?” The groggy groan emerged from beneath the pile of yellow-white hair.

“Shhh. You can sleep longer. I have to get up.”

Lexa went to pull her arm away when Clarke’s hand moved forward and she gripped Lexa’s arm over her chest. Her eyes were still closed.

“No. Stay just a few more minutes…” she mumbled. Lexa’s heart thundered in her rib-cage. She waited until Clarke’s breathing evened out, indicating that she had fallen back asleep, and as Lexa pulled her arm gently out of Clarke’s grasp, she leaned, ever so tenderly, into the nape of Clarke’s neck. She couldn’t help what was building and building inside her, like sparks behind her eyelids when she fell asleep. She couldn’t get enough of Clarke.

____________

A few months into production, after Clarke herself had used the blanket while napping or hanging out in her trailer, Lexa could smell Clarke on it with every breath. Even though Clarke had her own show blanket in a different color, she seemed to gravitate towards the one she had given to Lexa. A dangerously bad habit had developed. Soon after Clarke left the trailer on a given day Lexa would gather it in her arms so she could inhale the scent of Clarke’s shampoo so often left behind. Only after checking the door was locked, of course.

Lexa drifted off one afternoon in the trailer. She had been thinking about Costia and Clarke, not in any particular order, but examining her relationships to both of them in her mind.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

She woke up as Clarke walked into the trailer, realizing she had fallen asleep. Clarke stopped to give Lexa a friendly, incredibly tingle-inducing fingernail light scratch on the head where she lay on the couch, before she dropped a stack of scripts and hit the mini-fridge. Lexa was instantly alert and somewhat on fire from where Clarke had stroked her head. Clarke hummed to herself, filling the trailer with the unique energy that Lexa had come to admire as simply “Clarke Griffin.” She couldn’t help but always compare Clarke to Costia in her mind. Clarke was strong, wasn’t she? She didn’t have the deeply hidden insecurities which had raged and eventually consumed Costia. Lexa wasn't positive, but her gut instinct told her Clarke had an inner determination, some sort of compass, which Costia had simply never possessed. She hoped she was right.

Lexa would be lying if she said she didn’t think about Clarke…a lot. It was her job to think about Clarke, she tried to reassure herself. Over the past few weeks she had begun to dream about her at night, falling asleep in the guest room, especially when she could hear Clarke’s TV on in the other room. She fantasized about Clarke calling her into her room, asking for more than water or the call sheet for the next day. Lexa’s cheeks burned red, even just thinking about it. Now in the trailer, Clarke walked back over and sat down beside her on the couch.

“What are you thinking about Woods?” Clarke’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

Lexa hoped her face did not betray her.

“Oh nothing…what’s your next call time?” Changing the subject, even as Clarke narrowed her eyes suspiciously, Lexa refused to meet her gaze as she went for the call sheet to see what Clarke’s next call time was. Simple self-preservation, she told herself.

____________

Clarke typically ate lunch with her co-stars in an area just outside the trailers, but away from the general catering area for the entire cast and crew.

One day Bellamy and Clarke saw Lexa as she passed by running to wardrobe on Clarke’s behalf and they hailed her over to their table.

“Lexa, come over here.”

She came and stood. Bellamy motioned to the bench table they sat at.

“Sit down, get something to eat.” Lexa felt incredibly self-conscious, as she wasn’t one of them. She looked at Clarke.

“Oh thanks, I shouldn’t…I was going to run to wardrobe…they wanted me to pick something up for you.” Clarke fluttered her eyelashes at her.

“Am I allowed to tell you to take a break?”

Lexa stiffened. She sat down next to Bellamy.

“Oh c’mon Lexa, don’t be mad, it wasn’t an order.”

Clarke made puppy eyes across the table at her.

“What’s up people? Hey, Lexa.” Monty sat down across from them. He was the Chief Engineer for the ship and dressed like he was ready to explore the outer reaches of the galaxy.

“Hey, Monty.” Lexa spoke with some resignation. “Clarke’s making me take a break.”

Clarke gazed proudly at Lexa. “She is the hardest working assistant in Hollywood, apparently.”

Lexa blushed and looked down.

“Stop, Clarke, I can tell you’re embarrassing her,” Bellamy laughed. He looked at Lexa.

“Lucky for me I only have to _pretend_ to take orders from her as her Second on the show,” Bellamy smirked. He turned to Monty.

“Seriously though, Lexa’s the best. She helped me rescue Clarke from Finn one night.”

Monty scowled.

“I thought we made a rule never to talk about him again. Ever.”

Monty looked at Lexa earnestly.

“Most of us have been in this business since we were kids, and Clarke is one of the most genuinely awesome people I have ever been around. Please, I beg of you, keep her away from that asshole.”

Lexa’s eyes widened a little, but she tried to keep her face perfectly still, so she wouldn’t react.

Clarke must have sensed her anxiety. 

“Hey guys, let’s not talk about him. That is way above and beyond the call of duty for Lexa.” She chuckled and turned to Bellamy.

“Have you heard from Octavia lately in Romania? I miss her face!”  Bellamy nodded.

“She misses you too. She’s very loyal to the Sky Princess.” He turned to Lexa.

“My little sister was on this show Clarke was on up in Canada when we were young,” Lexa nodded.

“Raven showed me the pictures.” Lexa admitted sheepishly.

Clarke pretended to be scandalized.

“Raven did that! And I thought my secrets were safe.”

Monty cut in.

“Clarke you have that perfect level of fame where you are only known to either women of a certain age who remember Sky Princess, or the teenagers who watch this one.” He turned to Lexa. “So Lexa, most of us are from Canada, and I’m sure Clarke told you they moved the show on us --”

Bellamy broke into the National Anthem next to them, “O Canada, Our home and native land…true patriot love, all of us command...” Some others at the table whooped at this as he continued: “...The True North strong and free! From far and wide, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.”

Clarke shook her head at his antics, while Monty rolled his eyes and continued.

“…as I was saying, we’re all still exploring LA. Clarke here,” he put his arm around her neck and she leaned into him, smiling, “has promised us a night on the town this weekend– are you in?”

Lexa again tried to remain expressionless. She looked at Clarke questioningly.  Clarke shrugged her shoulders.

“Sorry Lexa, I told them you’ve lived here way longer, and I might have mentioned that you used to be in a band?” She scrunched her shoulders down as she said the last part and looked at Lexa hopefully.

“That’s awesome,” John Murphy chimed in where he was sitting, “I want to go to the Viper Room.”

Bellamy spoke next.

“What about the Bar Marmont? That’s super famous.”

Miller sat down with them, followed by Harper.

“What did we miss? We’re going to Bar Marmont this weekend?”

Bellamy grinned at them.

“Guys, Clarke has graciously offered to get us a stretch hummer. We are going to embarrass ourselves and this is going to be like bad reality television. Canadians on the Sunset Strip!”

Harper looked at Clarke.

“Yes! I love it. Will Raven come?”

Clarke’s eyes twinkled.

“Raven is _so_ coming. Bell – is there any chance Octavia can get back here for this? I mean I know it’s a long flight, and she’s such a bad-ass stunt-woman she’s never not working anymore…” she trailed off.

Bellamy sighed.

“I know, she and Lincoln are just stuck there on location in Romania, it feels like indefinitely at this point… Otherwise you know I’d fly her in for this.”

Lexa quietly stared at the table, wondering why Bellamy thought Lincoln was in Romania. As far as she knew, he was still in LA. Clarke placed a hand on her forearm, pulling her out of her thoughts, and gave her a look.

“Lexa, you’re going to come, right?” She looked up at Clarke, wide-eyed, her forearm tingling.

Lexa demurred.

“You’re getting a limo Clarke; you don’t need me to drive.”

Clarke squeezed her arm and leaned closer.

“Lexa, you are off-duty, I promise. I want you to come with us.” The chatter of the table around them seemed to still in the back of Lexa’s ears, like the ringing of tinnitus when she woke up in the morning. She felt like there was a spotlight shining down on her and Clarke, which prevented their conversation from being heard by anyone else. Lexa hoped it was true.

“You do?” she asked softly, not daring to meet Clarke’s eyes, which she could feel intently watching her.

“I really do.” Clarke was equally soft in her response. Then she seemed to catch herself and removed her hand, tugging at the sleeves of her captain’s uniform.

“I mean if you’re busy I totally get it, no worries.” Lexa let herself meet Clarke’s eyes now and Clark tilted her head coyly. “I just thought it’d be fun. Let loose a little after all these weeks. Remember, there is a stretch hummer involved, champagne, and--”

They both could hear Clarke as if she had finished the sentence. Clarke was indicating the promise of herself.

Lexa rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help herself, as a full wide grin broke out over Clarke’s face.

“You’re too ridiculous. Ok, ok, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Yass!” Clarke nearly squealed and leaned further into Lexa, “It’s all I can do not to do a dramatic fist pump for the world to see--” She turned to the table and announced.

“Lexa’s in you guys!”

Most of them called back --

“Right on.” “Welcome to our little band of delinquents.”

Bellamy put his arm around her.

“You’ll be an honorary Canadian, Lexa.”

“Great,” she nodded.

“She’s so polite.” Murphy deadpanned, “it’s like you’re already one of us.”

____________

The limo picked up Clarke and Lexa first since Clarke was paying for the night.

Clarke had asked Lexa to come to her house early as she had paid one of the show’s make-up artists to come and do their hair and make-up.

“Niylah will do a fantastic job on your hair, Lexa.” Clarke had told her. “I want to see your hair out of a braid!”

 Lexa blushed furiously.

“Sure Clarke. But… there’s something else,” she looked down. “I really don’t have anything appropriate to go out in.”

“I wondered if jeans and a t-shirt was your unofficial uniform.” Clarke did her patented almost wink [Clarke Griffin TM] at her, “Not that you don’t look good in them, of course.”

Lexa felt her face burn. She did manage to remain expressionless, even if she reddened.

Clarke shook her head.

“It is impossible to get a rise out of you. Look, your jeans are fine, but I’m going to take you shopping!” Lexa shook her head.

“Come on, it’s the least I can do. I would just lend you some of my clothes – but you’re a bit taller than me. So even if I lent you a top, because I have an idea… you’d still need pants…”

That night, as Niylah was curling Lexa’s hair into cascading waves of curls, Clarke showed off the expensive, fake leather pants they’d found at a shop in Hollywood earlier in the day.

“Niylah, I’m not kidding, Lexa looks like a fucking rock star in these!” Niylah nodded appreciatively, ever the professional friend-slash-make-up artist.

“I can totally see it. Lexa, you took your make-up like a pro. Wasn’t your first time, was it?” Clarke interjected before Lexa could speak. She and Niylah were drinking gin and tonics and Clarke seemed well on her way to a pleasant buzz.

“She used to be in a band, you should have seen her make-up. Lexa, can I show her the pictures?”

Lexa looked at Clarke’s hopeful face.

“Some other time, Clarke. Don’t you want to finish getting ready?”

Clarke pouted.

“Ok, ok…Lexa I don’t know why you’re shy about it.” She turned in the seat where Niylah was now working on her hair. “They were really good. Do you know My Bloody Valentine?”

Niylah’s eyes widened and she looked at Lexa.

“You were in My Bloody Valentine?”

Lexa laughed as she shook her head.

“Oh God, how old do you think I am?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that...I think Clarke means, I was telling her their sound was one of our biggest influences.”

“Ohhhh,” Niylah laughed. “Got it.”

Meanwhile Clarke had clicked on her phone to start the speakers in the corner of the main room and “Only Shallow” blared from the speakers.

Clarke’s mouth kept moving but neither Nylah or Lexa could make out what she was saying.

“What??’ Niylah shouted.

Clarke turned the music down with her phone.

“ _Loveless_ is Lexa’s favorite album of all time.” Lexa was both charmed and perplexed by how Clarke was acting. This felt somewhat like Show and Tell.

Niylah took it in stride and nodded towards Lexa.

“Good taste.”

Lexa was almost starting to feel agitated at this back and forth. She looked at her phone. Almost 11pm, the limo would be here soon. She remembered back to her first encounter with Clarke. Maybe she really was some sort of expensive babysitter.

Niylah spoke to her when Clarke was in the bathroom, “To Here Knows When” pouring out of the speakers.

“She’s really into you.”

Lexa could not hide her shock. Niylah simply gave her a knowing look in return.

“Trust me, I’ve known Clarke for a few years now. I haven’t heard her talk about someone like this in a while…pretty much not since Finn.”

Lexa did not think her eyes could widen any further. _And there was that name again_.

Niylah had turned back to the large mirror and was gathering all of her accessories to put back into the giant black bag she had managed to strap on to her back. Lexa marveled at the sheer size of it.

“My work here is done.” She raised her voice in the direction Clarke had disappeared to: “Have fun, Kids!”

Clarke stuck her head out at that moment.

“Bye, Niylah!”

Niylah called back to her and then turned.

Lexa felt compelled to ask if she needed help with the giant bag.

“No I’m used to this. Just take care of our girl.” She winked at Lexa, which Lexa found slightly off-putting. Then she was off down to the driveway with her giant black bag.

She couldn’t help the dislike she felt at the way Niylah had referred to Clarke. Or could she help it? Was this full-on jealousy?

Lexa turned as Clarke walked out of the bathroom and felt her stomach once again do cartwheels.

Clarke’s hair was shorter than on the show without her extensions in, chin-length, and had been swept back from her face with some sort of styling product.

She wore a tight, extremely flattering, low-cut black shimmery tank top and dark denim extremely tight jeans, capped off with black stiletto heels. Her 5’3’’ frame was gaining at least 3 inches from those heals.

Lexa could not take her eyes off of her.

“You like? I decided to keep it simple.” Clarke turned around in a circle for her and to examine herself in the full-length mirror.

Lexa simply nodded.

“No words? You know how to flatter a girl. Ok then, Commander, let’s do a shot.”

Lexa looked at her reflection in the mirror at her simple blank tank and the skin tight ‘plether’ pants. _What is happening_? She asked herself.

She hadn’t felt like this since high school, or college. Since (gulp), Costia.

She was nervous. “Soon’ played in the background; they had made it through the entire album.

The doorbell rang and Lexa answered it. A male driver waited out on the porch politely.

“Lexa – get back here.” They both heard from inside the house.

“We’ll be right out.” He nodded silently and headed back to the limo. Lexa looked out into the darkness. Was Lincoln or one of the security team going to trail them tonight? If Lincoln really was in Romania with Octavia, then maybe it was someone on his team, one of his ‘guys’ as he called them. She hadn’t seen Lincoln since the night of Finn’s party, and it had been a couple months.

Lexa went into the kitchen where Clarke had two shots of expensive tequila waiting.

“Clarke, I barely drink.”

Clarke’s eyes twinkled and she cocked her head at Lexa.

“Right, right…how about half a shot then, just to get started?”

“Ok…alright.” Lexa internally scolded herself at her weakness, as she gave in and took the shot. She couldn’t say no to Clarke

“Yass!” Clarke jumped up and down and hugged her. “I’m so excited we’re doing this.”

The alcohol burned her throat but her body was on fire for an entirely different reason.

In the car as they approached Bellamy’s house, where most of the others were going to be, Lexa let her curiosity get the best of her.

“Hey Clarke, that make-up artist, Niylah, she…” _how should she phrase this_. “Did you guys…” her voice trailed off and Clarke leaned into her a bit drunkenly.

“Did she say something to you?” Lexa didn’t quite confirm but gave a slight nod. “Ok that’s kind of lame of her to do that…but she is a total gossip.” Clarke shrugged and rolled her eyes.  “We hooked up once, ages ago.”

Lexa did not have time to suppress her shock on her face as her eyes widened. Even though Niylah had made it pretty obvious, to hear the actual words out of Clarke’s mouth was something else.

“What?” Clarke looked at Lexa intently, trying to gauge her reaction. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Commander?”

Lexa’s eyes jumped at that, but with the look Clarke was giving her she couldn’t help but meet her smirk with a half-smile.

Lexa was simply processing what she had just heard. Clarke Griffin “hooked up” with girls?

“No, I…,” Lexa stared into Clarke’s eyes for a moment as the driver got out. “I’m processing this new information.”

Lexa heard the voices of the others as they approached on the driveway and Bellamy’s voice rang out above the others.

Clarke leaned in and whispered loudly directly in to her ear as the others climbed on board.

“Never assume, Lexa Woods. Never assume.”

And with that Clarke rose to greet the others piling into the limo and soon they were on the move, hip-hop blaring from the speakers, champagne being poured out for everyone in the limo.

“Canadians conquer LA” Bellamy shouted, Monty at his side with the bottle.

Clarke clinked Lexa’s glass and smiled at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBxJGg6cjqk


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The slow burn comes to a boil...

They started at Bar Marmont, as promised.

They had drinks and bounced between the crowded outdoor patio and the bar area there before heading down the strip to another club. Bellamy sponsored their time at The Standard, even though Raven had declared it, “a relic of the ‘Paris Hilton Sidekick’ era.”

Lexa had shaken her head and yelled, “I don’t even know what that means.”

Raven hollered back, “No worries, it was during the time you were playing Indie clubs and painting your face. You didn’t miss anything.” Which really made Clarke laugh.

Their final destination was apparently the current hot ticket – Mount Weather.

“The producer Cage Wallace is part-owner.” Someone had shouted in her ear.

Lexa had heard of him, a respected older Director, now long-time powerful Producer, and his son Dante. And, despite a shady reputation, Dante was getting lots of directing gigs of his own now. Hollywood, where nepotism never dies.

Clarke had paid for and reserved the VIP section upstairs, which looked down on the dance floor from above. By 3am there were endless toasts going on.  
“For Canada!”

“For Sky Princess.”

“Oh Captain, my Captain.”

Raven came over to Lexa amidst the din of the club and the low bass of whatever the music was shaking the dance floor downstairs -- Lexa guessed it was shitty EDM.

“Commander, I’m SO happy you could join us tonight. I didn’t know you were ever off-duty.” Raven smirked at Lexa before handing her a glass of champagne which she clinked with her own.

Lexa could not move from where she watched Clarke in awe, her mind completely blown, drunk on this night and how surreal it all felt.

“She’s a good egg, that one.” Raven smiled at Lexa as if she knew exactly what she was thinking.

Lexa blushed furiously.

Finally, for the first time in years, Lexa didn’t want to stay silent.

“Is it that obvious?” Lexa turned to Raven. Though her expression didn’t change, she could feel her hands trembling as she held the glass.

“Hey,” Raven elbowed her gently and spoke so that only Lexa could hear her as the others laughed and drank, some dancing in the VIP section. “Don’t worry, she really doesn’t mind being adored.”

Lexa turned and saw that Clarke was looking at them from where she currently sat wedged between Bellamy and Monty. Clarke stood up and walked over to them.

“What are you two talking about?” She asked, settling down in between them so she was perched on each lap, looking between them.

“Don’t worry, we were talking about you.” Raven cackled and Clarke pushed her shoulder.

“Oh stop.” She rolled her eyes and turned and squeezed Raven as she smiled at Lexa.

“I’m really not that bad, Lexa.” Clarke intoned sweetly.

Raven scoffed.

“Hey, now…most of the time, ok?”

Clarke turned to face Lexa.

“Dance with me?”

Lexa’s face burned. She wanted to… kind of.

“I can’t dance, Clarke.”

Clarke turned on her, a look of mock horror on her face.

“What do you mean you can’t dance, Lexa? Anyone can dance!”

Clarke stood and pulled Lexa toward her.

“I have no rhythm.” Lexa eyed the ground sheepishly.

Raven shook her head at the display, standing to leave as Lexa reluctantly stood up.

“I’m going to get another drink while you two hash this out.”

“So, Commander. Miss ‘I don’t dance.’” Clarke fully leaned into her as Lexa backpedaled into a corner; Lexa only stopped when her back landed against a concrete wall. Clarke was in her space. This was happening. Even if Lexa wasn’t sure what “this” was. Though she hoped.

‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ by New Order started blaring from the speakers.

Clarke placed her free hand past Lexa’s head and leaned in so she could hear her over the music. Her other hand had a drink in it.

“I may have bribed the VIP section DJ for you.”  Lexa’s eyes widened.

Clarke smirked at her and shrugged, then Clarke walked back a few feet and sort of danced her way back in to Lexa and leaned into her again so she could whisper-shout into her ear.

“It’s the extended Dance mix.” Though Lexa had realized this from the long electronic keyboard introduction, she simply felt her brain begin to melt in real time, as she gazed into Clarke’s eyes and the lyrics finally started.

She couldn’t help it, she pulled Clarke close, closer, until their lips met, and Clarke took the champagne glass out of Lexa’s hand -- she didn’t know where she set it -- and Clarke took her by the hand and they rounded a corner into what seemed to be a private area. But when she looked up, Lexa realized it was simply a space created by a pile of large black boxes on either side of them. Lexa gave up caring and gripped the back of Clarke’s head and then one arm wrapped around Clarke’s shoulder as she pulled her closer, until Lexa closed her eyes and was seeing fireworks behind her eyelids and everything that she had imagined it would be.

_“Every time I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray…”_ the speakers blared.

In Lexa’s mind, it was like a spotlight fell on them as they kissed and didn’t stop kissing until there was a full on make-out session happening.

After what seemed like several moments she pulled back for air, eyeing Clarke sheepishly.

“Lexa…” Clarke was out of breath, happily gazing at her, “I need to bribe DJ’s more often.”

Lexa laughed and rested her forehead gently on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Clarke…”

Clarke urged Lexa’s head away from her shoulder and took Lexa’s face between her hands, and brought their foreheads together.

“Stop thinking Lexa, I can hear you.”

Lexa perked up as The Cure came on and looked at Clarke, who’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“I may have bribed the DJ, _a lot_.” She said as Robert Smith warbled _‘Show me show me show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me scream, she said._ ’

Lexa angled down just slightly -- with Clarke in those heels they were nearly at the same height -- and started kissing her again, which Clarke gratefully reciprocated. Clarke’s tongue was hot in her mouth, pushing, exploring, as she began to grind slowly into Lexa.

Lexa sighed softly when Clarke eventually pulled back, chasing her mouth, chasing contact.

Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck and leaned up and into her ear again.

“You want to get out of here?” A throaty, fervent whisper.

Lexa looked down at her questioningly.

“Come on, I’ll have Raven get us an Uber,” Clarke’s eyes stared into her own, her irises were blue-black in the dim light. Lexa nodded and Clarke squeezed her hand before walking away from their hidden space of boxes to find Raven. She reappeared after a moment and led Lexa by the hand, past the group still going in the main room, Bellamy acknowledging them with a wave, his arm slung over someone.

They exited the club through a back door that Lexa would have never known existed, the gift of the VIP, and there was a giant, black SUV idling. When they were in the backseat, Clarke shamelessly climbed into her lap. Lexa prayed the driver wouldn’t know who Clarke was and report this to TMZ. Clarke appeared oblivious, or she just didn’t care, as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck and kissed up and down her jaw, then her neckline. For a half second Lexa saw him peer back but hopefully in this position he would never see Clarke’s face. Even with Clarke’s mouth all over her, Lexa couldn’t stop watching him in the mirror, even as she moved her hands up and down Clarke’s arms.

“Lexa…” Clarke breathed into her ear. With her hand, she turned Lexa’s face gently up so she was staring into Clarke’s eyes. “It’s not even booked under Raven’s name. It’s ok.” Lexa looked back to the mirror and the driver was staring straight ahead. She calculated in her head that they were probably only fifteen minutes away at this point. She looked up at Clark.

“Does he have your address?” She whispered. Lexa could not stop worrying, even though her body was on fire, even though the world was moving in slow-motion, and all she wanted to do was kiss Clarke back.

“No,” Clarke whispered, “Raven put in an address at the end of the next block, ok?” Clarke leaned in and pressed her lips back to Lexa’s, who, haltingly at first, kissed her back, and when Clarke’s tongue pressed into her mouth she suppressed a groan but she couldn’t stop her body as it shuddered in reaction. For the first time, she allowed her hands, which had been resting gently on Clarke’s hips, to cup Clarke’s head and pull her body in closer. After Lexa felt her lungs start to burn for oxygen, Clarke pulled away and Lexa realized they had come to a stop. Clarke opened her door from where she still sat on Lexa’s lap, swung her legs around and hopped out without a look back at the driver.

“Uh, thanks.” Lexa mumbled and quickly followed after her.

When the door was shut and he pulled away, they walked down the block to Clarke’s place, holding hands. Lexa looked around for an unmarked car which might be security. For any sign of Lincoln. She didn’t even see the odd car parked on the street. Clark was holding her high heels in her other hand, completely barefoot as they walked.

Only using sense memory, Lexa managed to type in the keypad and pull out the key for the deadbolt, Clarke half-twisting at her side.

Once inside, Lexa closed the door, barely having time to make sure it was bolted again and typing in the security code before Clarke was pushing her inside, against the wall to the right of the door.

“Lexa…” she trailed kisses again down her neck and pushed her hands up Lexa’s ribcage, under her shirt. “I’ve wanted…”

 Lexa felt like she could, in this moment, scale tall buildings.

“Clarke…” Lexa gripped Clarke’s body and walked them back to the master bedroom.

Clarke pressed her hands onto Lexa’s shoulder, turned her around and gently pushed her back on the bed. She straddled Lexa, bringing her head down to press her lips against Lexa’s neck, and Lexa ran her hands down Clarke’s back.

“Your eyes are so beautiful, Lexa.“ Clarke pressed a kiss to her earlobe as she whispered. “Stop. Thinking.”

Lexa’s wide eyes looked back at Clarke’s furious blue gaze. The thought in her mind -- which was that she was technically working for Clarke -- fell away as Clarke started grinding into her lap.

“Take this off.”

Lexa obediently lifted her arms and her shirt quickly came off, Clarke tossing it on the floor. Clarke began kissing her way down Lexa’s chest, to her breasts, as Lexa fought back a little, and flipped them over. She kissed Clarke hard and then worked her way to her neck, running her hands down Clarke’s sides, then over her waist, slipping her long, slender fingers under her waistband.

“I want to touch you,” Lexa breathed into Clarke’s ear and she heard Clarke choke out

“God, yes,” in response.

Lexa started to unzip Clarke’s jeans and Clarke quickly shed them herself, kicking them off with emphasis, then pulling Lexa to her.

Lexa dragged her fingers over Clarke’s underwear and could feel how wet she was. Lexa thought she was going to spontaneously combust. She had made Clarke Griffin wet.

She worked her way back up Clarke’s sternum worshipfully, pulling Clarke’s shirt off and over her head, and Clarke sat up to undo her own bra, throwing it off the bed.

Lexa took her handful of breast and licked the bud of each nipple, before sucking each, and then gently biting, until Clarke squirmed under her.

“Stop…teasing.” Clarke breathed and reached for Lexa’s pants. “Take those off.” Lexa did as she was told, unzipping and rolling the pants down as quickly as she could, considering how tight they were. She finally kicked them off and moved Clarke back up on the bed where she could fully bring her body over Clarke’s, and she started grinding into her.

“Oh God, yes…” Clarke moaned, and Lexa felt a surge within her, white hot heat settling inside of her. She could smell Clarke’s sweat mixed with her shampoo, her perfume, all of her senses seemed to be heightened.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered, as she slid her hands into Clarke’s underwear as their bodies continued to rock.

“Yes, Lexa, please,” Clarke reached down and seemed to begin to pull her own underwear off as Lexa was slowly kissing her way down Clarke’s pubic bone, licking her skin, massaging her as she went. Lexa helped her and finished the job, pulling them off and tossing them to join the other clothes hitting the floor around the bed.

“I want you…,” Clarke breathed as Lexa slid her finger between Clarke’s center, feeling how slick she was, “…inside me.”

Responding in her head that she would do anything for Clarke, Lexa slipped a finger inside of her, and when Clarke moaned “More” in response, she slipped a second finger inside and began to pump in earnest as Clarke rocked her hips up against her.

“Yes, yes.” Clarke kept rocking and Lexa stroked her clit with her thumb.

Clarke had her eyes closed and would move her head back and forth.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” Lexa brought her head up to Clarke’s and they kissed for a moment.

“I want to taste you.” Lexa breathed out against her.

Clarke moaned in response and when her eyes opened Lexa searched them as Clarke stilled her hands for a moment to come back for a wet kiss. After a moment, they broke apart and Lexa began to slowly start again, she worked her way back down Clarkes body with her mouth as she continued to use her fingers and changed the angle so she could start using her tongue on Clarke while she continued to pump inside her. Lexa circled her clit with her tongue before flicking at it, trying to keep up as Clarkes body responded furiously.

“Oh my God, don’t stop, I’m so close, don’t stop.” Lexa steadily increased her pace without getting sloppy as Clarke moved her hips in an increasingly jerky rhythm until Lexa could feel Clarke’s entire body was rocked by spasms and Lexa kept going until every single after shock had subsided. When Clarke finally stilled she gently pulled her fingers out, and shocking herself a little, she licked them. She couldn’t get enough of Clarke, who moaned, just barely audibly, in response. Lexa kissed up Clarke’s torso until she rested her face in the crook of Clarke’s sweaty neck, inhaling her.

“Oh my God, Lexa” Clarke breathed out heavily. She reached for the back of Lexa’s head and brought her face up to her own gently. Clarke kissed her heavily and leaned their foreheads together.

Lexa reached for Clarke’s other hand and entwined their fingers together.

Clarke rolled her heavy-lidded eyes over towards Lexa.

“Your turn.” Lexa shook her head.

Lexa couldn’t put into words what she was thinking and feeling. She felt her body shake and tremble. Even though Lexa was so, so wet and worked up, she couldn’t go forward. There was some sort of sensory overload going on both in her body and her mind. Clarke had resurrected something within, so long dormant in the sleepwalker existence she had managed for the last few years. Lexa had been cave dwelling, hiding out in the darkness for so long these flashes of light that Clarke had brought were threatening to blind her.

“Can we just sleep?” Lexa asked. “Can I stay?”

Clarke wrapped her entire body around Lexa as she pulled her in close, wrapped her legs and arms around her.

“Are you serious?” she rasped. “I want you to stay.”

And with that Lexa let herself fall into the embrace of Clarke, her scent, her breathing. She fell asleep, and slept dreamlessly.

____________

When she woke up, Lexa couldn’t figure out what that strange, unfamiliar sensation was at first. The rustle of something at her neck. The slow, steady movement. Was it breath? All of the hair on her head stood on edge, like thousands of tiny nerve endings were alight, and the most delicious memory ran through her entire body like a wave of chilling air, but instead of nerves it was like a propulsive wave of endorphins. Lexa realized where she was, remembered who she was, and who she was in bed with.

Her stomach flip-flopped. She had slept with _Clarke_. The actress, Clarke Griffin, who she was employed to work for – her paychecks were issued by the same payroll company that paid the entire cast and crew of SPACE TRAVELERS, but they might as well have said “Clarke Griffin, INC.” The car she drove everyday was registered to Clarke's S-Corporation. Lexa had crossed an ethical boundary, but she couldn't help herself. She'd have to deal with that later. Just even her name, _Clarke_ , as Lexa thought about her, made Lexa’s heart grow several sizes, and she felt her pulse speed up at the thought of the woman lying beside her.

Lexa’s eyes opened at that instant and she tried to quietly raise her head off the pillow and craned to look up and across her own chest. There was visual confirmation, a mass of blond hair on the pillow beside her, Clarke was nearly leaning into her back, breathing softly, chest rising and falling under the sheet. Lexa realized she was completely naked, they both were, and another shiver ran over her entire body. What was she supposed to do in this situation? Lay there quietly and wait for Clarke to wake up? Should she get up and start making coffee in the kitchen like nothing happened – just another day at work?

She remembered she wasn’t even working, technically, Clarke had invited her out and told her she was off the clock. Clarke, Clarke, Clarke. On her lips, on her mind, her body, her existence even, consuming every inch of Lexa’s being. She rolled herself over so she was facing towards Clarke instead of away from her, and ever so gently leaned forward until she kissed the beginning of Clarke’s hairline.

Clarke stirred slightly and in the scattered streaks of morning light which made it around the closed Venetian blinds Lexa could see the faintest freckles on her creamy pale forehead. Which made her heart feel like it was going to explode all over again, realizing she was so, so close to her. Lexa wasn't sure how many more minutes passed before a clear, ocean blue eye cracked open on the pillow and took her in.

“What time is it?” Clarke’s voice was throaty with sleep.

Lexa shook her head, eyes wide still in wonder at the sight of Clarke.

“I don’t know,” Lexa swallowed thickly, “want me to check?”

Before she could register a response she had two blue eyes coming directly at her as Clarke rolled towards her and then gingerly planted an arm over Lexa. As Clarke began to quite literally clamber over her, settling a knee on each side of Lexa’s waist, Lexa rolled on to her back, looking up at those eyes, the blond hair now hanging down over her face, and she was dumbstruck, her mouth slack, as she stared up at Clarke. Clarke’s face broke out into the Clarke Griffin trademarked 5,000 megawatt smile and Lexa felt her thighs instantly clench at the sight of it, heat straight to her center.

It didn't help that she could feel Clarke’s center against the soft swell of her lower abdomen.

“Hi.” Clarke said.

Lexa reached her right arm and pushed some hair over and behind Clarke’s ear. Her fingers brushed Clarke's cheek and slowly she moved her hand until it was on Clarke’s arm above her.

“You’re so…so…beautiful.”

The words came out slowly, and Lexa had a memory hidden in the back of her mind, she knew there was something important she had learned that she wanted to share with Clarke, if only her brain weren’t stuck.

Clarke simply leaned down and kissed her, speaking softly, kissing her first on the lips, then on her forehead, then each eyelid, then down to nip at her neck.

“Flattery…will….get…you….everywhere.”

Clarke worked her way down Lexa's neck and then rested her head, turning on its side, her left ear cupped to Lexa’s chest. Lexa felt her own heartbeat thump and watched Clarke’s head rise and fall as she breathed. Clarke’s voice sounded wistful when she spoke.

“Can we stay here forever?”

Lexa only nodded in response. Clarke shifted her head up so she could look Lexa in the eyes.

“Was that a yes?”

Lexa couldn't help but break out into a lazy grin.

“Yes, Clarke.”

Clarke shivered and Lexa pulled the covers back up over both of them, gently raking her nails up Clarke’s back as she stroked her fingers up and down the length of her.

“I love the way you say my name.”

That made Lexa say it again, and she placed a kiss on her forehead as she did it.

“Clarke.” Emphasis on the k.

Clarke looked at her again – her eyes searching Lexa’s – as if she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so…” she paused, “...so real.”

Lexa thought this was a compliment, but she wasn't entirely sure. Clarke continued, her eyes searching Lexa’s, as if trying to make her understand.

“You’re so quiet most of the time, but I feel this…” Clarke opened her mouth and then shut it, hesitated as if she was going to say something else. “I catch you looking at me. Your eyes are so intense, so green. Like there are layers and layers of Lexa, and I just want to…” Clarke leaned up on her elbows and started kissing Lexa again.

Between kisses, as Clarke worked her way from Lexa’s chest down to each breast in turn.

“…unravel you.” Lexa almost choked as Clarke went down lower, below her belly button, and further still.

“Clarke,” Lexa gripped her head gently, one hand on her shoulder, “you don’t have to--”

“Shhhh,” Clarke looked up at her for a moment and then kept going, “let me take care of you.”

Lexa let out an almost embarrassing moan at Clarke’s words and soon her body shuddered under Clarke’s tongue.

It was so much sensation all at once and it had been so long since anyone had touched her like that Lexa thought she would black out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Dhn_iIQXDE


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of you who are commenting as you read, it means a lot. And Happy Pride everyone!

They spent all day in bed. Lexa touched every inch of Clarke’s skin over the course of the day in various levels of changing light. She explored the fine, downy white-blond hair on her arms, felt her navel and the very faint lines healing from the laparoscopy. She discovered every square inch of Clarke, at times with her long fingers, other times with her tongue, trying to commit her body to memory.

Lexa found herself in a fever dream state. Like her mind was blown on laughing gas and only the two of them existed in this universe – Clarke and Lexa. Lexa was planting her flag and claiming, and she never wanted to come down from this high. In the back of her mind, there was a red-light warning system under way – _Lexa watch out – this is dangerous. Feelings Lexa, feelings. You can’t fall for this girl. Weakness. Danger. Danger ahead! Watch out!_

But the other part of Lexa was in an out-of-body experience; looking down on them. She only shrugged. She cannot fight this. It is happening.

As the daylight faded through the blinds, they lay together, limbs entwined, bodies sore and spent, completely at ease. Clarke gazed at Lexa with adoration, running her fingers through her hair. Lexa stared at Clarke. Besides consuming water and coffee and a plate of fruit that Lexa, completely nude, had run to the kitchen to put together (and then placed on Clarke’s bedside table while she laughed) -- they hadn't eaten.

“I should get us some food,” Lexa thought out loud, and almost at that exact moment Clarke’s stomach growled.

Clarke smiled.

“My body is acknowledging this, but I don’t want to move. And...,” she shifted her position, ensnaring Lexa’s limbs with her own, “…that would require you to put on clothes.”

Clarke made a face. Lexa couldn't help herself. She laughed out loud.

Clarke’s expression morphed into the 5,000 megawatt stunner.

“Right now, Lexa, that…” and she gently tapped at Lexa’s smiling face, “is everything.”

____________

Over an hour and a half later they had both showered -- together at first, before they realized if they didn’t split up, the shower would never end. They sat together at the kitchen table in white, fluffy robes, both bent over pasta dishes from a four-star restaurant, which Clarke had paid an exorbitant charge to deliver. Clarke, who fastidiously monitored her diet, felt she had sufficiently burned enough calories over the past 18 hours to indulge. Lexa put her fork down and tried not to let her voice betray the anxiety she felt inside.

“Clarke, this is…really hard for me to ask. It’s really, none of my business even…”

Clarke stopped mid-chew and stared at Lexa, wide-eyed. She gripped the stem of her wine glass as if it would physically protect her from whatever was coming next.

“How do you want me to act tomorrow? You know, on set?” She could almost see the tiny facial muscles relax on Clarke, who took a sip of her wine, and Lexa, flustered, carried on. “I just, a lot of your…some of the cast may know what happened, or, I mean, they can guess.” Lexa looked up at Clarke, her cheeks burning. “We left separately…together. You know how people gossip. I…”

Clarke reached across the table and took Lexa’s hand in her own.  
“Lexa--,” Clarke tried to interject.

Lexa stared down at her plate, her face betraying her emotions, she could feel it, though she successfully kept her voice neutral. She continued on.

“…I don’t know how to protect you in…this situation.”

“Lexa,” Clarke squeezed her hand, “look at me.”

Eventually Lexa lifted her eyes to meet Clarke’s assured, very blue gaze. She thought about the ocean, about waves that undulate under the sun, and felt hopelessly lost in them.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

Lexa frowned ever so slightly in return, puzzled by this.

“It’s never been clear to me what Nia said to you, but sometimes it feels like,” Clarke twisted the wine glass again thoughtfully and gazed at it, “that you think you’re my bodyguard.” She brought her eyes up to Lexa’s again. “I’m not helpless,” she leaned over and her intense gaze made Lexa feel lightheaded, as if searing through her, “…and Bellamy, Monty, even Murphy…those people are my friends. I trust them. You,” she changed her mind in that split second, “ _we_ , have nothing to worry about.”

Clarke gave Lexa a reassuring smile, and started eating again.

Lexa, while no longer sick to her stomach, still had so many questions.

The most pressing was, does she sleep in the guest room tonight?

As if reading her mind, Clarke shook her head.

“You’re not going anywhere, ok?” She picked up her wine glass and grinned mischievously. “Don’t even think about it, Woods.”

Lexa stayed in Clarke’s room that night. The guest room was never even mentioned.

____________

The next week, she and Clarke spent every night together in Clarke’s bedroom. And even when they were too exhausted to do more than just drape over each other, she’d gone to sleep with that steady heartbeat beside her. Woke up to that face each morning. Every time she opened her eyes and saw Clarke’s blue eyes staring back at her, her mind snapped a picture like a screenshot on her phone, and she filed it in her mind accordingly. And every night, a small voice in the back of Lexa’s head told her this couldn’t last. That it was, literally, too good to be true. This could not be real life, but rather an extended hallucination. She fought these thoughts back down, and would grip Clarke beside her, or listen for Clarke’s steady breathing to calm herself.

The next Friday, as Clarke was on a soundstage shooting, Lexa’s phone chimed. She stopped noodling on the acoustic guitar Clarke had set up for her in the trailer and checked the text.

_“It’s Lincoln – meet me right away. Nia’s office_.”

Lexa’s stomach dropped as she rushed across the lot to the Executive Building. As she approached to climb the steps, Lincoln appeared from out of nowhere to meet her, steering her to a bench immediately to the right of the entrance, and shielded from view by a cluster of tall hedges.

“Lexa, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I have to talk to you before we go in there.”

Lexa felt the fear rise, threatening to consume her on the spot. She heard Nia’s voice in her head “ _…make sure she never needs to take an Uber.”_ Lexa had fucked up, badly.

Lincoln looked down at his shoes, then back over his shoulder, sunlight glinting off of his sunglasses.

“First of all, I want to say I’m sorry, Lexa, I should have told you something from the beginning, but Marcus didn’t want you to know.”

Lexa felt a sense of dread moving up her spine, her heartbeat increasing, her palms beginning to sweat.

“Lincoln, what is going on?” He had a pained expression on his face.

“Clarke was stalked up in Vancouver. That's why I was hired for the special security detail when she relocated to LA. He’s threatened her in the past, and he’s back now. My operative saw him watching you two Saturday night when you exited an Uber. Apparently, he was following you from the club.”

_“Way to be aware of your surroundings, Lexa_ ,” was all she could think. But when she did get the feeling that someone was watching that night, she’d assumed it was security.

“Is Clarke in danger right now?” He shook his head.

“No. Because there’s an active restraining order against him, he was immediately arrested that night as soon as my guys verified it was him. He’s still being held in LA County Jail this morning – he’s held automatically for at least 48 hours. Marcus has lawyers preparing for his bail hearing. Studio Security here at Polis, everyone has been given his photograph and we’re making a plan of action. That’s why Marcus wants everyone to discuss how we’re going to tell Clarke and her mother that he’s back.” He paused. “We’ve got to go up now. Marcus and Nia are waiting.” Lincoln straightened his suit jacket. “You’ll find out the details on this guy in there. And, Lexa…” he trailed off while she waited, her mind racing.

Then Lincoln shook his head.

“Let’s go up, I’ll tell you after.”

Lexa followed Lincoln through the Lobby, nodding to the gray-haired security guard, finding herself in the elevator, and -- before she knew it -- walking into Nia’s outer office again. Echo was waiting and took them immediately back into Nia’s private conference room. Lexa wasn’t sure if it was simply paranoia, but Echo’s usual disdain seemed to border on amusement today.

Marcus sat at the large table and there were two men with suits and muscles like Lincoln standing against the wall.

“I trust Lincoln has briefed you on the situation.”

Lincoln spoke before Lexa could.

"I gave her the general outline, Marcus.”

Marcus lifted an attaché case and pulled what appeared to be a headshot out, handing it to Lexa. Lexa nodded, stone-faced. She looked at the photograph, and then at what was clearly a series of grainier, go-pro type footage stills, possibly from the weekend immediately prior.

Nia filed in with Echo beside her, trailed by two men she later introduced as the head of Polis Television Studios and the head of the TonDC Network. Another man soon joined them who Nia identified as the head of Polis Security; he had brought with him a pair of plain-clothes detectives from the LAPD, one male, one female. LAPD apparently had a Threat Management Unit dedicated to this type of situation. After all of the introductions had been made, everyone passed the photos around the table.

Marcus cleared his throat and spoke to the room.

“Thank you all for attending on such short notice. Please memorize this face. His name is Carl Emerson.” He went on. “Emerson was the head of security for the production complex in Vancouver where Clarke worked on a primetime soap opera, becoming a series regular shortly before her 18th birthday. He became obsessed with her, which was only discovered after she shot the pilot for SPACE TRAVELERS two years ago. Anonymous threats to her life were being made on-line. We were able to trace them through an IP address. Emerson denied it was him, but we were still successful at getting a restraining order against him in Vancouver -- with the Canadian Courts -- and here in Los Angeles as well when the production moved.”

“Clarke doesn’t know that Emerson has followed her down here, or that he has been spotted. We will have a meeting with Clarke and Lincoln as soon as possible, to go over an action plan. I told Abby she can attend through Skype, but she wants to fly down here to attend in person.”

Nia spoke, the sound of her voice setting off all of Lexa’s fight-or-flight responses. Adrenaline spiked through her and she gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay calm.

“You can use our facilities, and our Security teams will be at your service; anything we can do to help.”

“Thank you, Nia.” Marcus turned to Lexa. “Lexa, on your resume, it said you had some self-defense training?”

Lexa knew she had never submitted a resume. But clearly Nia could not get Marcus or Abby to accept her without a resume, so one must have been created without her knowing it. For all she knew maybe Anya had created it.

“It’s been a few years, but I’ve taken self-defense classes.”

Lincoln jumped in to speak.

“I have Octavia on the next flight back here to LA. She’ll start training with Lexa -- and Clarke, too, if she has time. Just as an extra precaution.”

Marcus gave a curt nod.

“Ok, good. Lincoln, please take Lexa and go get Clarke.”

A Polis Security guard drove Lincoln and Lexa in a golf cart back to the Base Camp for SPACE TRAVELERS. Lincoln stopped and cleared his throat just outside the door of the main soundstage, where the red light flashed, indicating shooting was underway and no one was to open the door.

“She knows, Lexa. Nia knows about you and Clarke.” 

Lexa blinked, taking this in, repeating the words in her mind. _Nia knows_. She knew it was too good to last. She had just had a week of euphoria with Clarke, and now it was time to suffer.

She looked down and studied her hands, balling them into fists, before she looked back up at Lincoln. _Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm._

“What do you mean, she knows?” Lexa had steeled herself and used her most commanding voice. But her heart was sinking inside, and she sensed what was coming before she heard it. She nearly growled at him, “What do you _think_ you know, Lincoln?”

“There’s footage of you walking to the house. It isn’t very clear -- you’re just holding hands -- but it could be misinterpreted.” Lincoln brought his hand to his forehead, as if to shield his eyes from the sun as it sank lower in the sky. “But when Nia saw that she demanded I contact the club in the name of Clarke’s security with Emerson, and they pulled footage from last weekend. She saw you two together in the VIP lounge at the club.”

Lexa stood silent for a moment, gathering her resolve, then speaking through gritted teeth.

“Who do you work for Lincoln? Do you work for Polis TV Studios, do you work for Nia, or do you work for Clarke?”

The anguish of his response let her know his true feelings.

“I’m freelance, Lexa, but I’m being paid through SPACE TRAVELERS for this one. Nia told me I have to report to her in addition to Polis Security.” He took a breath. “Look, I didn’t know until Clarke texted Octavia that you two were, are hooking up.”

“Who else knows? Marcus and Abby?”

“I don’t know. Nia called me and told me to get it for her, and that she already contacted the owner, Dante Wallace. I guess they know each other. I don’t know if she’s shown it to anyone else.”

Lexa sighed, but didn't let her shoulders sag where they stood. No matter how much she wanted to.

“I understand you were doing your job, Lincoln.” She felt completely resigned to her fate, whatever it was. “Thank you for telling me.”

They spent a tense few moments together, waiting for the red light to stop flashing.


	11. Chapter 11

“Again, Marcus, everyone, I appreciate your concern, but really, this is just…I hate to say it but everyone needs to take a deep breath. Calm down a bit.”

Several voices started at once, including Marcus from where he sat at the head of the table, Abby from the computer screen she stared out of, and Lincoln in the corner as well -- until Clarke stood up and put her hands on the conference room table.

“Please stop talking -- and listen to me. I understand that Emerson following me down here is frightening. But I trust my team. Lincoln has a good plan. Octavia is on her way. Lexa is going to stay with me 24-7, aren’t you, Lexa?” everyone looked to Lexa, who nodded. She saw Nia give her a very pointed side-eye.

Clarke looked back at Marcus.

“He violated his restraining order and hopefully he’ll be deported back to Canada to serve his sentence, rather than here.”

At the immediate sound of Abby’s voice Clarke held up her hand.

“I know, Mom, that doesn’t solve the Vancouver situation, but it will have to do for now.” She looked around the room, “I really, truly appreciate the care and the concern, but I’m not going to let him force me to live my life as a prisoner. But we will be vigilant.”

Clarke looked again to both Lexa and Lincoln, each of whom nodded in return. Lincoln spoke first.

“Marcus. Abby. We will keep her safe. Octavia is on the next flight back, and not only will she act as personal security for Clarke, she will start training both Lexa and Clarke as we discussed.”

Abby nodded from the computer screen but it was clear she was worried.

“Thank you, Lincoln. And thank you, Lexa. I don’t think I need to tell you how important Clarke is to me. Please keep her safe.”

As they began to file out of the room, Clarke gripped Lexa’s arm and leaned into her so the others couldn’t hear her as she spoke in Lexa’s ear.

“Sorry. I didn’t exactly ask you before I volunteered you as my 24-7 protection.” She attempted a weak smile that made Lexa’s stomach flip with both butterflies and concern.

It was clear that underneath the brave face she had just put on for her mother and the rest of the table, Clarke was frightened, and the tension was visible in Clarke’s eyes and in the way her hand gripped Lexa’s arm. At that moment Clarke seemed to realize how tight her grasp was, and she dropped her hand.

Lexa spoke softly.

“Clarke, of course I’m here. Don’t worry. I _want_ to stay with you.” She implored Clarke to understand how strongly she felt with her eyes. “Are you done for the night?”

Clarke nodded. “Then let me take you back—“

They were interrupted by Echo stepping out from the hall and loudly clearing her throat, and Nia emerged from the darkness behind her.

“Clarke, this situation is so unpleasant. I want you to be focusing on that script we sent you, and not having to deal with this.”

Clarke smiled, and in the category of Clarke Griffin smiles Lexa would label this as perfunctory, nothing more, nothing less.

“Thank you, Nia. I’ve been dealing with this for a while now, so I won’t let it get in the way. It’s an incredibly exciting opportunity and I look forward to reading the script.”

She guided Lexa away from Nia, and they both walked away down the hall, Clarke giving Lexa a look that clearly said they would talk in the car.

As they waited for the Valet to bring the car around, Lexa squeezed Clarke’s hand.

Clarke looked at her, dazed.

It was dark, and as per usual, there were no stars to be seen in the sky above them.

“24-7.” Clarke leaned into Lexa, who kept her upright, and her grip steady.

____________

Lexa whipped around and her fist flew out as Octavia blocked it.

“If all else fails, go for the eyes, Lexa. I keep telling you that.”

Lexa bent over in the ring, grunting, sweat rolling off of her, hands on her hips. She waited, hoping Octavia would drop her guard for a moment. Octavia slowly walked over to her and Lexa waited until she was close, then kicked out, dropping Octavia on the mat. Lexa quickly scrambled to take Octavia’s back and secure her into a rear naked choke. Octavia tapped and sputtered.

“Good. But you know you may not have the element of surprise in the real world, Commander.”

“That’s my girl. You can do it, Lexa! Don’t let Octavia push you around.” Clarke’s voice sounded from the corner, channeling the enthusiasm of a highly caffeinated cheerleader.

Octavia rolled her eyes and sauntered over to the corner, leaning on it in the direction where Clarke stretched and did yoga poses on a mat nearby.

“Come on, Griff. Don’t you want to get in here and try me? Lexa is making real progress.”

Clarke approached the ring.

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, Octavia. You know that.” Clarke smirked and looked in Lexa’s direction, and Lexa couldn’t help grinning shyly -- even as her face grew beet red. _From the exertion and the heat of course._

“Ok, ok, you two…get a room.”

Later that evening, Lexa got out of the king-sized bed that she and Clarke had been lounging in following what had become their Saturday morning routine: Octavia putting Lexa through her paces, followed by Octavia leading them in yoga and strength training. Then, they headed back to the outrageously expensive bungalow in Bel Air. Lexa never got used to this level of luxury, and she and Clarke had been here going on six weeks now.

When Marcus and Abby decided that they no longer wanted Clarke to stay in the rented house in the Hollywood Hills after Emerson had found it, no expense was spared. After an exhaustive search, Abby was finally satisfied with this secluded bungalow -- rumored to have been utilized by many a scandalized star during Hollywood’s Golden Age -- which came with its own private security staff (in addition to Lincoln’s detail). It didn’t hurt that it came with extra bedrooms, and Abby had spent at least two weekends in Los Angeles with her daughter since the arrest.

Lexa had managed to convince Clarke that she should stay at Indra’s guest house on the weekends Abby was in town. Lexa knew that she couldn’t handle sleeping in the same bed as Clarke while her Mom was there, no matter how far the other room might be – and she had already endured a few awkward dinners with both, because Clarke had insisted that if her Mom asked, she wasn’t going to lie to her about their relationship.

“I’m not going to lie to my mother, Lexa. We’re both adults. I have nothing to hide.”

Then she fixed her eyes on Lexa as if she had discovered something troubling.

“Are you… Why do you not want my mother to know?”

Lexa had pulled Clarke towards her and kissed her gently.

“I’m fine with your mother knowing. I just…I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t trust me. Or if she’s suspicious of me.” Clarke frowned, a question in her eyes _._ Lexa continued.

“I was hired to drive you and be an assistant. I’m sure they think now that I had other motives.” She looked down, slightly embarrassed. She looked back up at Clarke, trying to finish her statement but feeling the buzzing energy that seemed to distract her when she looked too deeply into Clarke’s eyes. She wanted her to know. _She needed her to know_.

“I don’t, you know.”

Clarke cocked her head to the side and gave a wry grin.

“You don’t what, Lexa?” They had played this game before. Clarke was trying to draw her out. It was so obvious. But she refused to say it. Lexa narrowed her eyes in reply, even as she couldn’t stop the slightest smile from taking shape on her lips, giving her away.

“I don’t have other motives.” Clarke shook her head, sighing, and leaned on her elbow.

“You know, there can be another motive, don’t you? One that’s not nefarious. One that doesn’t end with photos leaked to TMZ and tears?”

Lexa closed her eyes and leaned back as well.

“If you say so, Clarke.”  Clarke took the nearest pillow and brought it to her face.

“Aaaarrrrghhhhh, Lexa Kom Trikru!” She nearly shouted into the pillow, which muffled her. She took the pillow away from her face, which was now completely red. She clambered up so she was straddling Lexa, her legs on either side of her waist. She leaned over her, waiting until Lexa opened both of her eyes to meet her own.

“You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that?”  She leaned down and kissed Lexa on the neck, nuzzling her. Then, she whispered softly in Lexa’s ear, “You really do.”

Lexa spoke after a moment.

“Is that bad?”

These conversations never resolved themselves, and always ended in especially physical, passionate sex where they would immediately pass out and could leave their feelings unspoken, having expressed everything they needed to through their bodies, at least for the moment. 

The entire cast and crew of SPACE TRAVELERS were well aware that Clarke and Lexa were in a relationship. While neither had used the term “girlfriend,” Clarke was known to talk at length about her ‘favorite person,’ and had even taken to posting blurry, artistic pictures on her Instagram of Lexa. It would be impossible to tell with the casual eye, or to even make out her face, but it was unnerving to Lexa. Lexa had been shocked the day she found out Clarke had almost 1 million followers on Instagram, albeit mostly women, some as young as 11 or 12 years old. Unbeknownst to Lexa, Clarke had begun to tag these blurry, mysterious photos – some literally of Lexa’s shadow against the pavement -- with the hashtag #MyShadow and eventually her followers had begun to wonder who this “Shadow” was? Since Clarke was an actress, there were some amusing guesses as to who it might be in the comments. There were obvious guesses, such as fellow cast members like Bellamy, Monty, or Harper as the Ships 1st Officer, Chief Engineer, and Ship Medic respectively; others had ventured Finn Collins from what they had read in the tabloids.

“Stop teasing them, Clarke,” Lexa would roll her eyes and say when she found Clarke over her phone and she realized that Clarke had uploaded yet another photo. Clarke would just shoot Lexa her 5,000-megawatt stunner and her eyes would twinkle, full of happy mischief.

“Are you really ready to deal with what happens if people find out?” is what Lexa wanted to say, but she wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Clarke, and she already knew her own answer to the question; She, Lexa, was not ready. And she did not want to say that out loud to Clarke, or even admit it to herself.

Even for all of her reservations after the discovery of Clarke’s seemingly enormous social media following, both because she was something of a luddite (as well as just having generally dropped out of society for the last two years) Lexa was pleasantly surprised when Clarke showed her that there were some fan accounts out there dedicated to The Trikru.

There were even a few live performances, which Lexa hadn’t realized fans had recorded back in the day and uploaded to YouTube. Mostly songs from their first album, _We Are the Grounders_.

Lexa stood there in the most beautifully ornate, green marble bathroom she had ever experienced, as it filled with steam and Clarke sauntered in, her robe hanging haphazardly open. By the time Lexa was outside the door, Clarke was sitting on the marble counter between the two sinks, leaning against the wall. She was using a vape pen instead of her usual one-hitter, and when Lexa got out of the shower the scent of marijuana was mixing with the steam around her. She toweled off her hair and eyed Clarke, her eyebrow arched up, the robe hanging open, only wearing underwear. Her décolletage on full display as she smoked and watched Lexa approach the mirror to her right. There was a hook on the wall nearby and Lexa pulled the expensive, white fluffy robe around her own shoulders, staring at Clarke unabashedly.

“What are you thinking about, Clarke?” In that position, in that state of undress, Clarke only made Lexa think of one thing, as if the fact they were in this fancy house wasn’t in itself enough of a fantasy. Which was what made the words that followed even more unexpected.

“Tell me about The Ice Nation.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Your services are no longer required.”

Lexa sat, stunned into silence. When she had been summoned by Nia she knew it wouldn’t be a friendly chat, but she couldn’t imagine what this meant. She gave Nia her best stare and kept her expression blank.

“What are you talking about?”

“Lexa, did you know that Dante Wallace and I are old friends?”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

Nia took a drag off of her cigarette and indicated a USB drive sitting on her desk.

“I’ve seen evidence that you and Clarke have become quite close over these past few months, haven’t you?” Nia smirked at her.

Lexa said nothing, so after a few moments of silence, Nia sighed and set her cigarette in the ashtray. All she was missing was a cat to stroke on the enormous desk in order to complete the picture of a Bond villain.

“It’s been more than six weeks since we made the offer, and she still hasn’t given us an answer. I want Clarke Griffin to do this Finn Collins picture. You’re in my way.”

_Time has breadth and depth._

Lexa remembered the other night, lying in bed, when Clarke told her she was being given a deadline to make a decision about the offer to be the female lead in Finn Collins next movie. Clark was interested; on one hand, it was going to be a high-profile film, which would certainly lead to more career opportunities. On the other…

Lexa had stroked Clarke’s back softly while she spoke.

“I don’t know though…working with Finn when it finally seems like he got the message to leave me alone. And Cage Wallace, I’ve never heard anything good about him.” She looked thoughtful. “But it is a great script, and I’ve never done a feature before. It could be really exciting.”

Lexa had nodded, rolling on her side, gently moving Clarke’s hair behind her ear. Kissing her there.

Clarke had propped her head on her hand as she stared at Lexa.

“You could come with me, you know. On location.” Clarke moved up into a sitting position and kissed Lexa so deeply it took her breath away. “It could be very romantic.”

Nia’s voice pulled Lexa out of her thoughts.

“Are you listening to me, Lexa? I want you gone, now. You’re done here.”

Lexa gritted her teeth and snarled.

“You can’t fire me Nia, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I hired you, and I can fire you. Both Collins and Wallace want her, God knows why.” Nia grimaced distastefully. “However I do see the Collins-Griffin romance angle as the right way to sell the film. You’re in the way at this point.”

“No.” Lexa clenched her jaw shut.

Nia glowered at her from behind that swivel desk. Out on the veranda, a fall breeze moved the plants hanging over the chairs and table. The mountain rose beyond that, and she could see the distant headlights of late afternoon traffic drifting up and down, back and forth. Lexa wished she could transport herself there, take Clarke with her, and never look back.

Nia paused and, seeming to gather herself, she brought her hands together in front of her, as she carefully picked her words. It reminded Lexa of a snake coiling just before an attack.

“It would be a shame, wouldn’t it, if I had to pull Clarke’s security detail? I mean, with that lunatic Emerson running around?”

Lexa’s eyes widened. Nia feigned a look of surprise.

“Oh you hadn’t heard? He’s out of jail now, released early for good behavior.” She looked at her screen and reached for her cigarette. “He must have had quite the legal team.” 

She tapped some ash and took a drag off of the cigarette.

“The other thing to consider, Lexa…is that a pretty girl like Clarke, she’s been on-screen her whole life. There’s probably _a few_ “Emerson types” running around out there. Who’s to say, even if they put Emerson away again, that another stalker won’t emerge out of thin air to take his place?”

Lexa shook where she sat, trembling with rage. She stood and spoke quietly.

“Are you seriously threatening Clarke? You…” she trailed off and turned to leave. She stopped in front of the door at the sound of Nia’s voice, and she could feel the adrenaline run up and down her veins. She clenched and unclenched her fists, thinking she could kill this woman with her bare hands.

“It’s pretty simple, Lexa. I’m not threatening Clarke. Your mere presence threatens her. If you leave, I’ll make sure all the security detail sticks around, and she will become the star she’s perhaps meant to be. If you stay, well….”

Lexa continued to face the door.

“…we both know what happened to your last girlfriend.”

_Time has breadth and depth._

Lexa thought back to Clarke, beautiful Clarke, majestic in her open robe, majestic in her nakedness.

Lexa had told Clarke everything, how Costia had left her and left the band. Started a rival band with Ontari, with financial backing from Nia: The Ice Nation. How Lexa tried to keep in touch with her, tried to get Costia to return her texts, her phone calls. But Costia was too far away at that point. She had moved out of their apartment and never looked back.

Lexa dreaded what she sensed was coming. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know when, but she knew it wouldn't end well. Fear gnawed at the pit of her stomach. Reports from friends and acquaintances. _Costia was too thin. Costia could not form coherent sentences the last time they had seen her. Costia was a mess. Ontari was enabling her_.

And then the call came one morning from Costia’s father. As soon as Lexa saw the area code of her hometown, she felt the hope drain out of her body. She heard the gravelly voice of Costia’s father and went numb as she listened. Her despair was physical.

Costia had fallen from a window at a hotel. No one was sure how. Rushed to the emergency room. Too late. Nothing could be done.

Clarke had pulled Lexa into her arms as she shook, and, for the first time in years, Lexa cried.

“I couldn’t stop it Clarke. I couldn’t save her.”

“It’s okay, Lexa,” Clarke had soothed her, rubbing her back. “You’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

_Time has breadth and depth._

Lexa leaned forward on the couch in Clarke’s trailer, pressing her hand to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut as her jaw worked, gritting her teeth.

To stay and fight, or to run? How could she protect Clarke? She thought of lying with Clarke on a lazy Sunday in the afternoon, stroking her smooth skin in low light. She wanted to go back there. Could she alone keep Clarke safe if she stayed? Was Nia right? Was Clarke better off without her?

Lexa pulled her knees up under her chin as she leaned back against the couch. She picked up the well-worn, gray SPACE TRAVELERS throw and pulled it towards her.

And that’s how Clarke found her, a few hours later.

Clarke had cut herself off mid-sentence when she saw Lexa’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Lexa shook her head, twisting the blanket in her hands.

“Clarke, I… have to go.”

Clarke set her things on the mini-fridge and sat down beside her.

“Ok, where do you have to go?” Clarke’s voice was so calm, so soothing.

In every scenario, in every computation Lexa could run in her mind, she couldn’t leave Clarke. But each time she ran it, she did. It was as if this had happened before, centuries ago, in the ancient past. And that it would happen again, far off into the distant future. Every single time, Lexa couldn’t escape this.

“I don’t know, but I have to go.” Clarke frowned, and put her hand on Lexa’s wrist as she still twisted the edge of the blanket.

“Lexa, what’s going on? What are you talking about?” Lexa simply shook her head as she found that no words would come out. She felt like she would cry.

There was an urgency now to Clarke’s voice when she spoke again.

“Lexa, please talk to me. What is going on? Are you ok?”

Lexa finally turned to really look at Clarke. Could she telepathically make Clarke understand she didn’t want to do this?

“It’s not safe. I make you not safe.” 

Clarke frowned and shook her head.

“Lexa, you can’t be serious. Talk to me, tell me what is going on? Did something happen?”

Tears formed in Lexa’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She could feel herself shrinking, disappearing.

“I just…I can’t be what... Clarke, I can’t protect you, I may even be hurting you.”

Clarke’s face began to redden with anger.

“Lexa, that’s bullshit. Don’t do this. You can’t be serious,” Clarke’s voice started to crack, and she took a breath. “Look, just, let’s just count to ten, take deep breaths. We will figure this out. Together, ok?”

“I want to fight armies for you…” there were tears now in Clarke’s eyes. Lexa stood, “…but you’re better off without me.”

There was a quick knock and Octavia appeared. She took a look at Clarke and then narrowed her eyes at Lexa.

“Hey – what’s going on?”

Clarke stared at Lexa, not responding to Octavia’s question.

“Don’t do this. Don’t you care about me? Don’t you care about us?” Tears rolled down her cheeks. Lexa had to look away.

“I do care Clarke. But I’m making this decision with my head, and not my heart. That’s why I’ve got to go.”

Octavia looked bewildered and angry at the same time.

“What decision? What’s going on?”

Lexa brushed past her to walk out the door, but Octavia gripped her arm and looked at Clarke.

“Should I let her leave?” Clarke, who still wore a look of shock on her face, nodded and wiped at her eyes.

“Let her go.”

Those words rung in Lexa’s ears as she walked across the lot. She seemed to feel herself splinter into multiple parts; her physical body kept moving while a part of her seemed to fall into the blacktop and disappear down below, swallowed by the earth.


	13. Chapter 13

Lexa made it to Indra’s house where she sat on the bed, shaking. She texted Lincoln to call her as soon as he received the message. When he called back, she explained what Nia had told her.

“Is it true, about Emerson? I didn’t stop to tell Octavia, to warn her. Or Clarke.”

“I’ll find out. And I’ll contact Marcus right away. Lexa, just sit tight.”

Sitting there, the walls seemed to close in as it all hit her:

Clarke might never speak to her again. She had just let down the one person in this world who made her feel alive.

24 hours passed. Lincoln texted her that while Emerson had been released in Vancouver on some sort of technicality, Marcus and the other lawyers were confident that he was under house arrest with an ankle monitor. Lexa thanked him and asked if he could get a message to Clarke for her. He agreed, and said he would slip it past Octavia who was with Clarke non-stop and, “furious with Lexa.”

As those words sunk in, Lexa took a Xanax and lay down on top of the bed. Her misery made her feel exhausted. 48 hours had passed, and Lexa had barely moved. There was water in the guest house -- and not much else. Lexa thought about contacting Clarke. To make sure she was ok, at the very least.

She texted her.

_“Can you talk?”_

No response.

Lexa awoke on the third day from a restless sleep filled with hallucinatory dreams of Clarke. She sat in the disarray of the small guest house, empty cardboard boxes set up around her, a few items haphazardly tossed in. She didn’t know what she was going to do, where she was going to go. She had begun to experience time as A.C. for After Clarke, just as everything else had been Before Clarke. Her phone chimed periodically with a text or call from Anya, but Lexa ignored her.

She looked around the guest house and realized that she didn’t have much stuff at all. Jeans, t-shirts, sneakers. Mementos of Trikru. She found one of Clarke’s t-shirts, and buried her face in it. She closed her eyes and imagined: What was Clarke doing – this second? Did she know Lexa was thinking about her? How much she missed her? How she didn’t really want to be alive in a world without Clarke in it?

“Lexa.” A vaguely familiar voice said her name. She recognized but couldn’t quite place it. She turned and there stood Nyko in the doorway, his figure outlined in shadow against the late-afternoon sun.

“Nyko – what are you doing here?”

“Indra called me.” Lexa immediately looked down. “She needs to see you in her office.”

Nyko came over and sat next to her on the bed. He peered at her and tapped his shoulder against hers, cautiously. That little bit of kindness was all it took, and Lexa felt her eyes brim with tears.

Nyko put his arm around her shoulder and gently squeezed. He cleared his throat after a moment, and Lexa quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“She made it sound like, maybe we’re going to do a little practice? Or a session or something?”

Lexa’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh…” she glanced at her neglected acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the room.

Nyko stood and offered her his hand.

“Come on, she’s got everything we’d need in the studio. But she wants us to go to her office first.”

Nyko shepherded a stunned Lexa across the yard and Titus fell in step behind them, tongue wagging, as they followed the path to the back of the estate. Once inside the sliding door they walked to the pristine marble kitchen. Luna sat there at the table, eating an apple and working furiously at a laptop.

“Luna.” Lexa’s stomach dropped at the sight of her old friend. They had lost touch soon after Costia’s death, and Lexa hadn’t even been sure Luna was in LA anymore.

“Commander.” Luna looked up from her computer and grinned. She rose and walked across to Lexa, quickly embracing her and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you, Lexa.”

Lexa stood dumbly, her mouth slightly open, and truthfully did not know what to say. The first thought that came in to her head came out quietly.

“It’s so, so good to see you too.” Luna smiled sheepishly and reached around, gesturing for Nyko.

“Go see Indra and then meet us downstairs in the studio.” She reached for her laptop, quickly shutting the top. “Nyko and I will start getting set up.” She gave Lexa a reassuring smile.

Lexa nodded, wide-eyed. She still wasn’t sure what was happening. She walked with Luna and Nyko to the foyer with the wide stairwell up to the 2nd floor, framed by a magnificent chandelier. They turned to head for another direction and she mounted the stairs, realizing at the sound of heavy breathing that Titus was still tagging along behind her.

Turning down the hallway, she knocked at the open door of the large study. Framed albums, awards, and a large portrait of a beautiful mountain in the distance covered the walls.

There, behind a giant, beautiful cherry wood desk sat Indra Gona. Principal owner and Creative Director of the music label she had built, 12 Clans. Her hair was pulled back from her face and she wore an expensive etched herringbone print navy and ivy patterned silk blouse and dark trousers, her legs elegantly crossed. She was a powerful executive who ruled her very own DIY Kingdom with endless grace. While she was legendary as one not to cross, she was also respected and revered by the many loyal employees, artists, and managers who made up her orbit.

“There you are. Both of you.” And behind Lexa in huffed Titus, barreling around the corner of the desk to land at Indra’s feet, where she leaned down and scratched behind his ears. She motioned for Indra to sit, and she leaned back in her chair.

Indra eyed her for a moment, looked at her giant computer monitor, leaned down again to pet Titus, and brought her eyes back up to Lexa.

Lexa felt ashamed, that she found herself here, after all of these years. Indra had literally sheltered her, and this is how she had repaid her old friend? Her cheeks burned, and the simultaneous heartache which would not leave her threatened to steal her breath.

“Anya called me,” her gaze searched Lexa’s eyes, wordlessly. “I have something for you.”

Indra handed Lexa a small envelope, and Lexa recognized the handwriting where her name was scrawled. Her hands shook as she opened it and opened up the folded piece of paper.

_L – I got your message. I had to change my number. I can’t talk right now, at least not yet. I need time. But I want you to know something. Love is not weakness. - C_

The word love was underlined.

“Indra, I…I fucked up…” she looked up as her voice shook but she was no longer ashamed tears were running down her face, “…again.” 

Indra nodded, thoughtfully.

“The skinny Lexa who walked into my office all of those years ago was ready to arm herself as a Commander of the TriKru, a Clan of the Woods, was ready to take up her instruments and lead people. And the audience responded. We all did. I remember it well. They believed in you, Lexa. To me you will always be Heda, the Commander.”

Lexa nearly whispered.

“But Costia. And now Clarke.”

“As much as we may love another, we cannot live solely for them. You have to start with yourself Lexa. Your fight is not over. Just remember who you are, and fight again.”

____________

On the fifth day, Lexa’s phone chimed from an unknown number. Figuring it was spam, she let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later, she noticed there was a message and hit play.

“It’s me.”

At the sound of Clarke’s voice, Lexa lost the ability to breath. Clarke’s voice continued, “I can’t talk yet, but I had to call you. We’ll talk soon, I promise. There’s something I have to do first.”

Lexa’s heart thundered and she willed herself to remain calm.

_Time has breadth and depth._

After a few weeks of rehearsal, Indra suggested they start an unofficial tour, they went out on the road, truly humble, living out of a van. Staying at the cheapest of cheap hotels and motels. Playing sets in small dive bars, anywhere they could book independently, really.

Indra pulled in favors for them where she could.

Lexa poured every emotion she had into her songs, and she found they came spilling out of her effortlessly.

Within a month they had enough material for an album, if they wanted.

After two months of playing under the name The Grounders, they had been written up by a few music blogs and Indra was getting enough inquiries that she hired them a booking agent. Their incredibly mournful cover of R.E.M.’s “The One I Love” had gone viral – a concert-goer had uploaded it to YouTube and it had become the last song Lexa played at every show. Every single time she sang it, she could feel Clarke, could picture her face. She escaped, if only for a moment.

Lexa kept her eye on Clarke’s social media, which had gone dark for a few days, before Clarke began posting pictures and indicating that she had a big project coming up. There were enough Instagram posts featuring Niylah to make Lexa’s stomach turn. One in particular where Clarke, nearly unrecognizable to Lexa with red and pink streaks in her hair, drunkenly leaned into Niylah on a dance floor.

Lexa sought out an empty space alone away from her bandmates as soon as she could, and she quietly cried. All of those years she had turned off her emotions and now, apparently, once she had let herself cry, she couldn’t stop. Her Xanax didn’t seem to work, so she stopped taking it. She smoked a little now and then with Nyko and Luna, but for the most part, she kept writing.

She had a dream one night, that she and Clarke had been at the top of a mountain, surrounded by warriors, and Clarke had needed Lexa to fight for her, to help her defeat an evil army. Nia was there, Emerson was there, both Wallaces, and Lexa was made up in her Commander make-up and costume, ready to fight. But Lexa took her soldiers and she left. Clarke was distraught, in the dream, and Lexa was, too, though she was too stubborn to show it. She wandered into the woods that night and found a deserted cave. One of her soldiers had ordered a Healer to bring her a potion, which she drank, and she woke up feeling reborn. In the dream, Indra was there, standing guard when she awoke. Lexa eyed her with absolute certainty, and told her they had to find Clarke.

Lexa woke up drenched in sweat with her heart thumping excitedly, and she grabbed her guitar and immediately began writing.

The first time they played it live was the biggest tour stop yet, a small but well known club in Hollywood. An important place to play in the LA music scene.

“I wrote this song about learning to love yourself again, even when you think there’s nothing left. This is for the person who taught me that love is not weakness.” Then without thinking she added, “She knows who she is.”

She sang the song, putting her whole soul -- every fiber of her being -- into it, and the audience was hanging on every word. It was their best performance of the entire tour.

The next day she woke up to a text from Anya.

_“There is an LA Times article you should read.”_

It came with a link to the article, in which Clarke was one of four actresses who had worked with reporters discussing their dealings with Polis Studios and Nia Azgeda, the Producer Dante Wallace, or both. None of the actresses were willing to go on record except for Clarke Griffin, series lead on SPACE TRAVELERS.

_“…asked why she was sharing her tale of professional manipulation and misconduct by the current Hollywood power structure, Ms. Griffin offered, “Nia Azgeda is ruining lives. I have experienced it first-hand. If I can help just one person, just one young actor to know that this behavior is unacceptable, then it will have been worth it. I don’t want to succeed if it means playing by their rules. I’m giving my name and going on the record because I can, and for all of those who don’t feel like they have the safety or security to do so.”_

Lexa saw that all of the major trade websites had re-published the article -- and that it was quickly gaining traction. She called Anya.

“Well look who’s back from the dead. Again.” Even for Anya, her voice was curt. Lexa understood.

“I’m sorry Anya. I really am.” Anya let out a breath.

“It’s ok, Lexa, really. Lincoln told me what she said to you. This is a cliché but that woman is a fucking villain and I don’t know how she’s managed to hold on to that position this long. Gustus is 100% supportive of Clarke going public.”

“How is she? Did you see Clarke when she met with Gustus?”

“I think you should find out for yourself.”

Lexa paused.

“It’s not like you have to kidnap her kicking and screaming.” Anya’s exasperation could be heard through the phone. “You’re playing the Hotel Café tomorrow night in Hollywood right?”

“Uh-huh,” Lexa muttered.

“Well Gustus told me Clarke’s going to your show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7oQEPfe-O8


	14. Chapter 14

There was a buzzing energy building inside of Lexa from the moment her conversation with Anya had ended and she’d learned that Clarke was coming to the show. A pressure weighed on her, heavy on her chest, pressing just hard enough that she was always aware of it inside. She woke the next morning and on her daily jog, she stopped suddenly on the side of Mulholland, breathing in dust and exhaust as cars flew by on their morning commute. She was doubled over, breathing heavily, a physical pain tight in her chest. She almost laughed to herself when the realization of why she felt this pressure hit her; tonight would be it – her chance with Clarke, even if she didn’t know exactly what that meant.

Lexa battled her worst case of nerves since they had started playing live shows again.

They had brought on a friend of Nyko’s, Ryder, to take over as drummer full time so that Nyko could focus solely on the keyboards and programming. As Ryder had only played a few times with them so far, Lexa was uncharacteristically impatient with him during their sound check. Soon Luna pulled her aside when she began to get openly frustrated and Ryder was starting to look forlorn.

“Remember to breath, my friend.” She led Lexa to a table down on the floor of the large room where the venue was framed by long horizontal bars on either side.

Lexa took her advice and breathed out slowly as the guys messed about with the amps and equipment on stage, taking a sip of water offered to her.

“I just can’t believe I might actually see her tonight.”

Luna took a seat beside her.

“I know you’re nervous. Don’t worry about the band tonight. We have a strong set with what we’ve built these last few months.”

Lexa ducked her head, twisting to pick up the small notebook she carried with her to write down words and lines that would come into her mind now and again.

“I don’t feel like I can say what I want to say,” she paused and looked at Luna. “Or maybe I’m afraid that I won’t say it right? And even if I do, they’re just words. What if I don’t get a chance to prove myself?”

Luna gave Lexa a sympathetic squeeze on the arm.

“From what you’ve told me about Clarke, I think she wants to hear what you have to say.”

____________

This hadn’t quite gone how Lexa had imagined it. She had looked for Clarke in the crowd prior to going on, but she really only had one angle to peer from and hadn’t seen her.

To maintain her level of concentration between singing and playing her guitar she hadn’t really been able to look for her in the crowd, until it was time to play the new song at the end of the set. Then, she decided she was too scared, so she picked at her guitar and leaned into the microphone.

“As I’ve said, I wrote this song about learning to love yourself again, when you think there’s nothing left, and you’ve given up hope. This is for the person who taught me that love is not weakness.”

They played the song and most of the crowd was silent during it, only the background murmur of drinks and bottles clinking. For Lexa, the performance felt almost holy. Even though she knew she couldn’t fall back into what had happened before, she couldn’t worship Clarke, as much as she loved her.

When the last note was played, there was clapping and cheering, and Lexa allowed herself to look around. There, in the back corner at one of the high tables, was Clarke Griffin, flanked by Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake.

This was the moment Lexa allowed herself to speak quietly into the microphone and look at her.

“We’ve got a new cover to close with tonight, and I hope it’s going to become a regular. Thank you for coming.”

Lexa was unofficially retiring “One I Love,” no matter what happened with Clarke. They began a slow, churning cover of The Horrors ‘Still Life,’ the emphasis on the keyboards and Lexa’s voice.

_“When you wake up, when you wake up, you will find me…”_

Lexa sang those words, and towards the end, she sang directly to Clarke.

____________

Raven walked into the small dressing room behind Luna and sat down on the couch facing Lexa, who wiped sweat off of her brow with a hand towel in front of an old mirror. Luna walked out and shut the door behind her.

“Where’s the make-up I was expecting? Where’s the red sash?”

“We’re trying _au natural_ for now.” Lexa gave Raven a small, cautious smile. “We’ll see how it goes.” She turned in her seat so they were facing. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do tonight.” Raven winked. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you but is working herself up to it.”

Lexa found herself at a loss for words. There was so much she wanted to say, where to start?

“I really hope I can talk to her, I really want to explain…” Lexa trailed off and looked down at her hands and the callouses on her fingertips.

“Hey, Commander, from everything I’ve learned, I’m actually rooting for you.” Raven gave her a stern look. “So you’re not going to fuck it up again, are you?”

Lexa shook her head, wide-eyed, at this sneak preview that maybe Clarke was going to give her another chance.

Raven stood up and nodded.

“Glad to hear it, because if not, I will give Octavia permission to murder you. And I don’t want to do that. I’m going to go get Clarke. Don’t move.”

Lexa looked in the mirror at her own appearance and worried that she wasn’t ready -- that her sweaty and disheveled post-show self would scare Clarke away. Before she could spiral with that thought, the door opened and Clarke herself appeared in the mirror. Her eyes were luminous in the dimly lit room.

“Hey.” Clarke’s voice was low and Lexa whipped around to face her. Lexa stood and tried desperately to think.

There was so much to say and now, she couldn't open her mouth.

“Clarke.” Lexa felt her eyes brim with emotion at the sight of her. She looked mostly the same, though maybe she was a few pounds thinner. She wore a black leather jacket over a white tank top, tight jeans and black heels. Lexa nearly gulped. “Thank you for coming.”

“I didn’t want to…” Lexa looked down hearing those words, sorrowful.

“I understand, I do.” She said. Clarke shook her head.

“No you don’t...not quite. Lexa, I couldn’t stay away any longer. There are some things I need to explain to you.” 

Lexa was surprised to hear this and it showed on her face. She braced herself with her hands on the back of the chair behind her. She looked over and motioned to the couch.

“Do you want to sit down?” Clarke nodded and walked over to sit down. Lexa didn’t really want to be having this conversation in the dingy dressing room of a Hollywood nightclub, especially if it was going to be her last time to see or talk to Clarke in person. The room had grimy black walls, just as she remembered from so many years ago. The smell of incense tried to mask the smells of smoke and weed. The proprietors had hung a string of mini-lights around the room, hanging from the standing lamps in each corner, so it was intimate, even if there was enough  graffiti scrawled on the walls to remind you that hundreds of acts had passed through here.

“Clarke, there’s no excuse for what I did. I know that and I want you to know that. I’ve thought of how to apologize to you every day since then and nothing can make it up to you. I wish I could go back in time to that day and stay. Just be brave and tell you what happened and face it together. I was so afraid that something would happen to you, so I ran, and I lost you anyway.”

Lexa looked down at her feet, not wanting the tears to fall.

“Lexa,” she looked up at Clarke and she saw that tears were also brimming in her eyes. “Lincoln told us the next day, what Nia said to you. I knew it must have… triggered something in you.”

Lexa looked down again, and before she knew what was happening, she had kneeled down on the hard cement floor in front of Clarke and she reached for her hand.

Emboldened when Clarke didn’t immediately pull away, Lexa continued on, looking directly up and into Clarke’s eyes.

"I love you, Clarke Griffin. When I met you, I didn’t know if I was even alive anymore. I was just in survival mode. You brought me back and now I see that life is about more than just surviving. Or it should be.” Lexa looked down at her feet for a moment, and her grip was soft where she clasped Clarke’s hand, still cold to the touch.  “I love you and it’s too late now to stop. No matter what happens, it’s ok now. Or it will be ok, because at least I get to tell you -- I’m going to love you forever.”

She looked up at Clarke, who sat staring back at her, wide-eyed, mouth slightly open as tears fell down her cheeks.

“Lexa,” Clarke breathed out. “Come here.” Clarke reached over to pull Lexa up and they both stood, both leaning into each other’s arms.

“I love you too, Lexa,” Clarke gripped her and cried into her shoulder. “I love you so much.”

They both stood for a moment, crying and gripping each other and Lexa’s body felt so much lighter with the feeling of Clarke in her arms again, she thought her body might float away if Clarke weren’t there grounding her to the floor.

Before Lexa knew what was happening Clarke’s lips were on hers and she didn’t have time to think about how she hadn’t changed her clothes and probably smelled like dried sweat and stale cigarettes, so Lexa just hugged Clarke tighter and inhaled the smell of her shampoo, the perfume that she had spent so many nights dreaming of, and she kissed her back. She poured everything inside of her into the kiss because she knew she could never make it right to Clarke with words. She also knew she would spend every day the rest of her life making it up to her if Clarke gave her the chance. They kept kissing, tentative at first, shy even, as they both knew it was something fragile and tender, both afraid to pull away. Finally, Lexa pulled away just slightly and spoke softly.

“Clarke, I don’t want to be too forward right now, but I would be honored if you let me drive you home.” Clarke sighed and laughed.

“Yes please Lexa…take me home.”

____________

Lexa drove them back to the Bel-Air bungalow in the old Jeep, in comfortable silence, even with the inevitable bumps up and down whenever they met uneven road.

Clarke led her by the hand to the entrance, and once inside she dropped her keys in a bowl on the table and typed in the security code.

She turned back to Lexa and pulled her in to her with a fierce hug.

“I’m sure you want to get cleaned up. Let’s get you showered.”

Lexa nodded against Clarke’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to let go of you now, though.”

Clarke kissed her softly.

“Get in there and I’ll come join you. I just want to straighten the room up a little. I’ve been messier than usual without you around.”

Clarke gave Lexa the near-wink and Lexa felt her body flood with desire. Her circuitry was overloaded with the various looks and presence of Clarke she had memorized over the course of the months – the presence she had suddenly been without these last weeks.

She stepped into the enormous marble bathroom and let out a breath. The double sink and double mirrored marble countertop to the left in all their glory, her toothbrush and all of her things right where she’d left them. She brushed her teeth and turned to face the enormous bath at the far end under the high windows. She stripped off her dirty clothes, tossing them in the bathtub when she turned to open the clear glass door and start the shower, and she stepped inside as steam began to whirl around her.

Lexa washed her hair, and she had just begun to rinse the shampoo out when Clarke appeared outside the glass, and dropped her robe, completely naked. Lexa lost her breath as Clarke stepped inside, coming under the water with her for a moment and wetting her hair, before stepping back out of the stream, leaning against the marble wall at their backs.

“C’mere, Lexa.” Clarke gave her a cocky, lascivious look and waved her over with a finger.

Lexa wanted to pause life and hold onto the feeling of Clarke getting bossy during sex and bottle it as if it were an achievement in a video game, so that she could pull it out later and restore her life force if ever needed. That’s how fucking hot Clarke Griffin was.

Lexa came over and pressed herself gently against Clarke’s naked body. Clarke leaned forward and kissed her.

“I’ve never been so glad to have a large shower, this place is insane.” Clarke breathed out after a moment.

They both started slowly grinding as Lexa pressed her tongue to all of the places she had begun to take for granted. The spot on Clarke’s neck under her ear that made her shudder, her clavicles, her shoulders, her glorious chest which was heaving by this point.

“Clarke, can I…” Lexa moved her hand down Clarke’s body, her fingers splayed out as she pressed down her abdomen and Lexa moved her mouth to Clarke’s ear, “I need you.”

"Yes,” Clarke breathed out as Lexa went down lower and lower, “I want you on your knees.”

Lexa kneeled and positioned Clarke’s left leg over her shoulder and rose up between her legs until she was in the perfect position to enter her, first with her tongue, thrusting as far as she could go and lavishing attention on her clit. Clarke braced herself with both hands against the shower wall at first, as her body went in rhythm with Lexa's. When Lexa felt Clarke was worked up enough, she brought up her fingers, and entered her with two at the same time, like she knew Clarke liked. Lexa pumped into her and continued to lap up all of Clarke with her tongue. She couldn’t get enough.

Clarke’s hands were in her hair as her hips ground down into Lexa’s mouth.

“Don’t stop.”

____________

When they made it out of the shower and were toweled off, Clarke led them to the bed, and softly, Clarke made Lexa lie down and she brought herself over her, propped on her elbow.

“I know we have so much to talk about. I want you to know that I -- I thought it was best if Nia did think we were apart, especially when I first started speaking with her privately. I recorded our conversations to see if I could get her to make any threats on the record. Eventually she did tell me she had the power to make sure SPACE TRAVELERS got a Season 3 pick-up, if I took the movie.”

Lexa sighed and Clarke smirked sadly.

“No pressure, right?” Clarke stroked Lexa’s arms and kissed her neck. “That was what Gustus and I took to the LA Times reporter who had contacted me. He already had these other women but they didn't want their names used. They had passed him some pretty damaging emails between Nia and Cage Wallace. My recording sort of broke it wide open.”

Lexa felt her eyes closing. Clarke wrapped her arms around her and Lexa turned on her side.

“Sleep, Lexa, you’re home now.” Lexa fell asleep feeling safe and secure for the first time in weeks, the bed felt like a cloud of air and she and Clarke were floating on a feather bed among the stars.

They both stirred in the early morning hours, and in the quiet stillness before Lexa could move properly Clarke was kissing her all over, and her body was on fire with sensation. Clarke seemed to crawl up and down on top of her, with hot wet kisses that shook her inside.

“Oh my God, Clarke.”

Clarke kissed down Lexa’s body until she was positioned between her thighs.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

Once again Lexa was plunged into the most delicious, near black-out she could remember.

____________

Clarke’s show had wrapped the previous week and Luna had volunteered to shepherd the gear after the previous night’s show, so Lexa was off duty.

They lounged in the bed and Clarke ordered a giant brunch through a delivery service.

Eating and fucking, that’s pretty much how they spent the weekend getting to know each other again.

The conversation turned serious again, late in the afternoon on Sunday.

Clarke was propped on an elbow in her robe, eating a strawberry.

“Part of me did think we needed time apart though, you know? It was a bit…you being paid to be my driver maybe wasn’t so good for our relationship. But,” she hesitated, and frowned thoughtfully at Lexa, “to me you were always my equal. I wanted you to feel, I don’t know, empowered. Is that the right word?”

Lexa bit her lip and pushed the hair falling down Clarke’s face behind her ears. She rolled onto her side so she was facing into Clarke, looking up at her.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I didn’t miss you, these last two months. When it first happened, I thought I was dead inside all over again, like with Costia," Lexa paused and ran her fingers through her own hair for a moment, laying back. "I was convinced, that a part of me went with her. I guess I felt that if I moved on with my life, in some way I wasn't honoring her memory." She looked straight into Clarke's eyes, hoping she would understand. Clarke looked down at her own nails for a moment, taking this in. Lexa leaned forward and took Clarke's hand in response, until she looked up and met her eyes again.

"When I got to know you Clarke, I felt alive again. And now I can see that Costia wouldn't want that...wouldn't want me to die for her." Lexa blushed, feeling so exposed to say this out loud but knowing it needed to be voiced. "Once you and I were apart I could look back and see more clearly, about Costia, and about you...like you said about, I dunno – the power dynamics being off in our relationship. At least that’s why I think I was so afraid, and I couldn’t talk to you when I really needed to."

Lexa sighed and ran her fingers through Clarke’s hair again.

“In her own sick way, Nia got involved and showed me that as much as I want to, I can’t live for you, Clarke.”

She leaned up and looked into Clarke's eyes, which were brimming with tears. Lexa felt the intensity, as moisture built behind her own eyelids, so she took Clarke's hand, gently kneading it within her own. Lexa understood that Clarke might still reject her, but a peaceful feeling rose within her chest, fighting back against the fear.

Clarke took a breath and wiped at her eyes a little with her free hand. She turned her head sideways and gave Lexa the most heartbreaking smile, gently pressing back where Lexa still held her hand, so they were connected when Clarke spoke. Her voice shook with the emotion of the moment.

"I always knew that Lexa. Just like I can't live for you...even if you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And we both know I can't compete with a ghost."

Lexa looked down and swallowed heavily, before she looked up and met Clarke's eyes.

“I love you so deeply now it’s like you’re in my bones, like you’re a part of me. And if you’ll have me I want to love you for the rest of my life. But I also knew that I had to find myself again, whether I’m with you or if I’m apart from you. You deserve that." Lexa looked down, before she faced Clarke with clear, wet eyes. "No ghosts."

Clarke leaned forward and kissed Lexa.

“We may be equals but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you get away from me again, Lexa Kom Trikru.”

Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke and they both laid back against the small mountain of pillows on the bed. They lay together and let themselves breathe, a comfortable silence as they simply absorbed everything that had passed between them. Still Lexa, still Clarke, but now headed in a new, as yet undiscovered direction.

There was a comfortable silence as Lexa looked up at the ceiling, at the fancy trimmings of the room, the hand-crafted, painstaking design. This bungalow may have been remodeled more than once in the decades which had passed, but the original care which was taken during the original construction showed; it had been carefully preserved, it endured over time.

Lexa understood this was how she must treat Clarke, and this new, fragile beginning the Universe offered. Lexa was no longer Clarke's employee, she was not just Clarke's lover, or protector. They were in this together, win lose or draw. 

“I had a little free time on the road, and I was thinking of the mythology of the TriKru, and I wondered if I met someone like… like the adult version of your Space Princess character, here on the ground. You were from Space, and so beautiful. We could create your own character, Clarke of the Sky People.”

Clarke leaned up and planted her arms over Lexa, trapping her there and showering her with kisses.

“You know you’re irresistible when you tell me I’m a Princess from space, right?” She kissed Lexa’s neck and rolled up into a sitting position. Her robe fell open and Lexa tried to concentrate on her words, even with the full décolletage once again distracting her.

“Real talk, though. I didn’t want to make any assumptions, and I’m going to be here in LA for the next couple months." Clarke traced her finger along Lexa's jaw, down to her chest. "I know I have to fly out for a few conventions, but then…”Lexa waited patiently for Clarke to finish, her heart beginning to thump loudly in her chest. “I want to go back to Vancouver. And uh, you’re kind of my person.”

Clarke looked back at Lexa, who sat glassy eyed and slack jawed.

“Have you ever thought about, would you want to…” Lexa sat up as much as she could and took Clarke’s hands in her own.

“Wherever you are Clarke, that’s where I want to be.” She kissed Clarke. “I can be based out of anywhere and still play with the band.”

Clarke clambered over so she could put her arms around Lexa’s neck and sit comfortably in her lap.

“So it’s settled then.” Clarke sighed and rested her head against Lexa’s neck. “You’re coming to Vancouver with me.”

“We had a line in one of our songs – ‘Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.’ I think I can safely say, moving to Vancouver with you will be the most joyful sacrifice of my nomadic life.” Lexa leaned forward and kissed Clarke gently.

“I’m honored.” Clarke grinned into her kiss.

“When we get to Vancouver, do you think you would help me with something I’ve been putting off for awhile…”

Lexa shifted and pulled Clarke close.

“Of course, anything.”

”I don’t have a driver’s license. I never got one. And I think it’s time I learn to drive...”

Lexa suppressed a snort, laughter bubbling up.

"Yes, yes, Clarke, all the free lessons you want..." Clarke shrieked as Lexa nearly lifted her up against the cascading pillows at her back and she wrapped her legs around her, and they fell together into the fortress of down pillows, melding into one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I swear fealty to you, Clarke kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people, as my people." (Swoon).
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJQk0jDZx8o


End file.
